I am currently in Los Angeles visitng with some old friends from USC. It is a little surreal being back here after three years, especially considering I haven't seen some of these people since we graduated back in 2005.
One such person is my friend, Heather, who was my roommate freshman year of college. But here is the really odd thing: since we have last seen each other, she has decided she no longer wants to go by "Heather" and instead refers to herself as Demetria, a play on her maiden name (she got married our senior year).
WTF right? Please tell me others find this as bizarre as I do. Another friend and I were talking about it and agree that you can't just up and change your name, much in the same way you can't just go and give yourself a nickname rather than earn one in a more organic and natural manner. If people ask, I tell them I go by Jess a lot, but I find it bizarre to even introduce myself as anything but Jessica because Jessica is my given name and Jess is something people who have gotten to know me call me.
They also call me Fetch. Sad, right? Poker is a world of nicknames--everyone has some alternative identity. For the online players, their screename serves as their nickname (we'll return to this in a future post) and, for many live pros, their nickname indicates the nature of the way they play like John "The Razor" Phan or, more hilariously, Allen "The Chainsaw" Kessler.
How did "Fetch" come about you may wonder? Court Harrington, that's how. Well, Court and the fact that I tend to just do what I am told without much of a fight. "Walk from the convention center to the Masquerade Tower? Sure" "Go take this to Joe Sebok" "OK!" Obviously, you can just stand to reason how he took to calling me Fetch.
Perhaps my favorite Fetch story is when I received a text message from Court that read: "Fetch-there is a bottle of tylenol in my backpack. Take that and $100 to Jeremiah please."
A few things to clarify:
1) Jeremiah is Jeremiah Smith, a former poker media person turned frequent tournament chip leader. Every event Jeremiah plays he manages to be the chip leader in, unfortunately just not at the very end of play when it matters the most.
2) The $100 is not in Court's backpack. It is assummed Fetch will take $100 of her own money and pass it along to Miah so he can get more masseuse time.
3) Jeremiah is not a P5er, we are not covering him for P5s Live, and therefore it is in no way expected of me to perform this task as part of my job.
Yet, I find myself not even questioning it as I wander into the media room, grab the Tylenol, get $100 out of my wallet, and trapse back out to the Amazon Room to Jeremiah's table.
After the task was complete, I simply texted Court back: "Fetch to the rescue."
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Hooooookkkkkkaaaaayyyyy?
So, as you may have gathered from the photo of Brett a few posts back, there was a non-bracelet event at this year's WSOP where the winner instead got a ridiculously large trophy.
This event, the media event, was also sans buy-in and anyone who made the final 9 were able to choose a charity and a donation would be made to that charity in their name. Both Court and I decided to play for the foundation established for Devin Porter' s dad. I had told Devin about the event and he kindly texted me to check on me shortly after we combined to the final 3 tables. Then, I kid you not, Devin hops in a cab from the Palms and I get myself a lil railbird.
Unfortunately, the event was designed to be over with in like 4 hours, so I very quickly found myself rather short stacked. Brett and I were put at the same table and he raised in early position when I was in the BB. I look down at 5-5 and very quickly ship it in. He looks frustrated and calls. Before he turns his hand over he asks, "do you have a pair?" I turn over my pocket fives and Brett laughs as he turns up---the other two fives. The board then runs out J-6-6-9-J and we are both playing the board to chop the pot.
A few hands later it folds around to me and I have A-Q, so I very quickly ship it for 9 big blinds or so. The dude from Bluff in the big blind beats me into the pot and I think I am in bad shape until he turns over his hand and shows me K-10.
K-10? Well, I am ahead, but not a huge favorite or anything and the guy manages to spike a gutshot straight on the river no more than ten minutes after Devin arrives. Apparently Devin has nothing better to do though, because he sticks around to cheer on Brett with us in addition to wish ill will on the K-10 guy (we even booed and hissed when he was introduced at the finaltable. Sore loser? That's me!)
Also on the sidelines watching the action is an hysterical Swedish man with a proclivity for punctuating his sentences by a long pause followed by a drawn out "hoooooookkkkaaaay?" He was also dressed like the most stereotypical tourist you'll ever encounter, complete with: fanny pack, socks with sandals, and an appalling print shirt of dogs playing poker. Don't believe me? See for yourself:
He was laying odds for the players at the final table and, when it was 3-handed, he offered 2-1 odds to Devin on Brett. Devin took him up on the bet and put down $5 on bertminatti taking it down. Well, when it is almost over and Brett has a HUGE chip lead, CrazySwede comes back to Devin and says he is about to win $10. Devin corrects him, "No, you mean $15."
CrazySwede then proceeds to explain to us that odds are very different in Sweden and 2-1 is equivalent to doubling your money. He and Devin debate the semantics of oddsmaking for a minute or two before Devin is finally like, "bet's off...give me back my money." Needless to say, CrazySwede was the life of the party and had everyone, including Nolan Dalla, rolling on the floor laughing.
In the end, Brett took it down and won a ridiculously large trophy, but I still maintain he should have thrown the event in order to get 2nd or 3rd, which also received trophies. The difference was that these trophies were open/challice-like objects, perfect for consuming copious amounts of alcohol out of while Brett's larger, ostensibly more prestigious trophy had a closed top and was essentially good for nothing.
In completely unrelated news, I randomly googled myself today and stumbled upon this. I can't quite figure out the context of the post, even when I read the posts preceding and following it in the thread. Nonetheless, I am going to just take it as some sort of compliment that I exist in the 2+2iverse. I have no idea who "clowntable" is on 2+2, nor any idea why he/she would have any clue who I am, but still, kinda bizarre.
This event, the media event, was also sans buy-in and anyone who made the final 9 were able to choose a charity and a donation would be made to that charity in their name. Both Court and I decided to play for the foundation established for Devin Porter' s dad. I had told Devin about the event and he kindly texted me to check on me shortly after we combined to the final 3 tables. Then, I kid you not, Devin hops in a cab from the Palms and I get myself a lil railbird.
Unfortunately, the event was designed to be over with in like 4 hours, so I very quickly found myself rather short stacked. Brett and I were put at the same table and he raised in early position when I was in the BB. I look down at 5-5 and very quickly ship it in. He looks frustrated and calls. Before he turns his hand over he asks, "do you have a pair?" I turn over my pocket fives and Brett laughs as he turns up---the other two fives. The board then runs out J-6-6-9-J and we are both playing the board to chop the pot.
A few hands later it folds around to me and I have A-Q, so I very quickly ship it for 9 big blinds or so. The dude from Bluff in the big blind beats me into the pot and I think I am in bad shape until he turns over his hand and shows me K-10.
K-10? Well, I am ahead, but not a huge favorite or anything and the guy manages to spike a gutshot straight on the river no more than ten minutes after Devin arrives. Apparently Devin has nothing better to do though, because he sticks around to cheer on Brett with us in addition to wish ill will on the K-10 guy (we even booed and hissed when he was introduced at the finaltable. Sore loser? That's me!)
Also on the sidelines watching the action is an hysterical Swedish man with a proclivity for punctuating his sentences by a long pause followed by a drawn out "hoooooookkkkaaaay?" He was also dressed like the most stereotypical tourist you'll ever encounter, complete with: fanny pack, socks with sandals, and an appalling print shirt of dogs playing poker. Don't believe me? See for yourself:
He was laying odds for the players at the final table and, when it was 3-handed, he offered 2-1 odds to Devin on Brett. Devin took him up on the bet and put down $5 on bertminatti taking it down. Well, when it is almost over and Brett has a HUGE chip lead, CrazySwede comes back to Devin and says he is about to win $10. Devin corrects him, "No, you mean $15."CrazySwede then proceeds to explain to us that odds are very different in Sweden and 2-1 is equivalent to doubling your money. He and Devin debate the semantics of oddsmaking for a minute or two before Devin is finally like, "bet's off...give me back my money." Needless to say, CrazySwede was the life of the party and had everyone, including Nolan Dalla, rolling on the floor laughing.
In the end, Brett took it down and won a ridiculously large trophy, but I still maintain he should have thrown the event in order to get 2nd or 3rd, which also received trophies. The difference was that these trophies were open/challice-like objects, perfect for consuming copious amounts of alcohol out of while Brett's larger, ostensibly more prestigious trophy had a closed top and was essentially good for nothing.
In completely unrelated news, I randomly googled myself today and stumbled upon this. I can't quite figure out the context of the post, even when I read the posts preceding and following it in the thread. Nonetheless, I am going to just take it as some sort of compliment that I exist in the 2+2iverse. I have no idea who "clowntable" is on 2+2, nor any idea why he/she would have any clue who I am, but still, kinda bizarre.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Grand Marquis
On Day 3 of the WSOP Main Event, I was trying to keep track of several P5ers still in the running for the bracelet and there was a table boasting a couple of P5ers including Hunter "The_HUNT_D" Frey, who was chip leader at one point. As we were covering Hunter, Jill, Adam, and myself slowly began to convince ourselves that another player at his table was more than likely an online kid as well.
Hunter is a friendly enough guy that wheneverI came by his table we would chit chat a bit. Eventually, the mysterious online player began to chime in and later, he introduced himself as Craig. I asked if he was a P5er and he explained that since he mostly played cash games online, he never bothered to join.
From that point on, every time I saw Craig, he would always make an effort to say hi and I would check in on his progress in the ME. Before long, there were only three tables left and Craig was one of the final 30 players. I was unable to cover much of the ME once the Bellagio Cup got going since I needed to be there most of the day, but I learned that Craig was one of the final ten players. They only needed to lose one more player before we were done until the November 9 returned to finish the event in a few months.
At one point, Craig was all-in against another player who had him covered and he was in bad shape with A-Q against the other player's pocket queens. As Craig backdoored a flush to suck out on him, the other reporters in the media room literally booed at the hand, frustrated they couldn't go home. However, I was so relieved because he was the only person left in the tournament that I had much of a rooting interest in. Granted, we have P5er Scott Montgomery, but we didn't find out about him until I was done reporting.
I had the same conflict with my fellow reporters at WPT. Everyone was just looking forward to going home, so when Mike Watson spiked an A on the river to double through David Benyamine during heads up play I got many a glare when I let out an audible "yeah!", happy to see someone I had been following the whole summer do well.
I wonder when I will hit a point in tournament reporting when I am more excited for the thing to just be over versus wanting someone I feel like I know to do well. Hopefully not anytime soon, considering that might be an indication that I am getting tired of what I am doing.
In the meantime, good luck in November Craig Marquis, I'll be rooting for you.
Hunter is a friendly enough guy that wheneverI came by his table we would chit chat a bit. Eventually, the mysterious online player began to chime in and later, he introduced himself as Craig. I asked if he was a P5er and he explained that since he mostly played cash games online, he never bothered to join.
From that point on, every time I saw Craig, he would always make an effort to say hi and I would check in on his progress in the ME. Before long, there were only three tables left and Craig was one of the final 30 players. I was unable to cover much of the ME once the Bellagio Cup got going since I needed to be there most of the day, but I learned that Craig was one of the final ten players. They only needed to lose one more player before we were done until the November 9 returned to finish the event in a few months.
At one point, Craig was all-in against another player who had him covered and he was in bad shape with A-Q against the other player's pocket queens. As Craig backdoored a flush to suck out on him, the other reporters in the media room literally booed at the hand, frustrated they couldn't go home. However, I was so relieved because he was the only person left in the tournament that I had much of a rooting interest in. Granted, we have P5er Scott Montgomery, but we didn't find out about him until I was done reporting.
I had the same conflict with my fellow reporters at WPT. Everyone was just looking forward to going home, so when Mike Watson spiked an A on the river to double through David Benyamine during heads up play I got many a glare when I let out an audible "yeah!", happy to see someone I had been following the whole summer do well.
I wonder when I will hit a point in tournament reporting when I am more excited for the thing to just be over versus wanting someone I feel like I know to do well. Hopefully not anytime soon, considering that might be an indication that I am getting tired of what I am doing.
In the meantime, good luck in November Craig Marquis, I'll be rooting for you.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Thoughts?
So I have a ton of great stories from the WSOP, but things got so hectic during the series that I was unable to post a lot of them. I realize part of the medium of blogging is contingent upon timeliness, but I am going to post some old stories as I get a chance to write them. Hope my contingent of 5 loyal readers (I'm growing!) doesn't care
Looking Back
I am on a flight from Las Vegas to Los Angeles and I can feel a palpable depression setting in. Perhaps it is because I lost more money than I wanted to playing $1/$2 Hold Em at the Venetian and Caesars Palace today. Maybe its because I didn't really get to say proper goodbyes to all of my friends.
It certainly isn't because I am LA-bound. It is somewhat surreal to think I am finally going to see my school friends again after nearly two and a half years. I am already looking forward to my future LA visits for the WPT. It guarantees I will see my pals twice a year as long as I am working for them. I feel as though I should be more excited to get to California, but I think my feelings towards Vegas are interfering.
I am not one to whine...oh wait, yes I am. But, for the sake of saving face we will refer to this post as "reflecting" rather than whining. I can say categorically this was the best summer of my life. I came in with a certain amount of expectations about the job and the experience more generally and reality went above and beyond all of them.would be a recurring example in academic debates about the real and the concept of realism more generally. To actually live in this place, be in this environment day after day completely alters my perspective.
I can see how people would let Vegas get to them. I also concede I could never live there. But, if it remains to be my adult summer camp for the next few years, you won't hear any complaints here. I hardly got to see any of the more tourist-ish things on my agenda, including a Cirque Du Soleil shows, Old Vegas on Freemont Street, and the inside of Excalibur to compare and contrast if it is as delightfully tacky as its exterior.
I did manage to do several things I didn't think I would have a chance to though. Partying at Ghost Bar for Alex's birthday, talking about USC at a beautiful rooftop bar with Devo, stay in a room at the Bellagio, take a limo to the Rhino, and, my personal favorite, chill on a rotating bed in a suite at the Palsm overlooking a city.
In addition to the experiences, I already miss the people dearly. Poker is a strange hobby and it is always hard to find someone who gets the lifestyle that comes with playing it on a regular basis. I am far from a serious poker player, but I can tell you most of my friends have no idea why I find cards to interesting and, while they were quite supportive visiting PocketFivesLive, they had no idea what our posts were even talking about.
I can only hope I stay close with the other P5ers. I'll be seeing Court on the circuit, but I may foist my company upon him sooner since he made the mistake of extending an invite to NC my way. Trips to Costa Rica and Chicago are also potentially on the horizon for more inter-reporter fraternizing. Not to mention my lame ass parked at the Caesars Indiana circuit event amusing those who earned the privilege of reporting on the event.
Finally, I think I am just bummed to not be around the players. In addition to learning so much just from watching them, they were all so unbelievably nice and helpful and funny and all-around good peeps.
Ideally I am going to be back working with the WPT full-time come December focusing specifically on the online poker world, so hopefully I can suffer through these last four months of school relatively quickly and get back to the ridiculously amazing job that is tournament reporting.
It certainly isn't because I am LA-bound. It is somewhat surreal to think I am finally going to see my school friends again after nearly two and a half years. I am already looking forward to my future LA visits for the WPT. It guarantees I will see my pals twice a year as long as I am working for them. I feel as though I should be more excited to get to California, but I think my feelings towards Vegas are interfering.
I am not one to whine...oh wait, yes I am. But, for the sake of saving face we will refer to this post as "reflecting" rather than whining. I can say categorically this was the best summer of my life. I came in with a certain amount of expectations about the job and the experience more generally and reality went above and beyond all of them.would be a recurring example in academic debates about the real and the concept of realism more generally. To actually live in this place, be in this environment day after day completely alters my perspective.
I can see how people would let Vegas get to them. I also concede I could never live there. But, if it remains to be my adult summer camp for the next few years, you won't hear any complaints here. I hardly got to see any of the more tourist-ish things on my agenda, including a Cirque Du Soleil shows, Old Vegas on Freemont Street, and the inside of Excalibur to compare and contrast if it is as delightfully tacky as its exterior.
I did manage to do several things I didn't think I would have a chance to though. Partying at Ghost Bar for Alex's birthday, talking about USC at a beautiful rooftop bar with Devo, stay in a room at the Bellagio, take a limo to the Rhino, and, my personal favorite, chill on a rotating bed in a suite at the Palsm overlooking a city.
In addition to the experiences, I already miss the people dearly. Poker is a strange hobby and it is always hard to find someone who gets the lifestyle that comes with playing it on a regular basis. I am far from a serious poker player, but I can tell you most of my friends have no idea why I find cards to interesting and, while they were quite supportive visiting PocketFivesLive, they had no idea what our posts were even talking about.
I can only hope I stay close with the other P5ers. I'll be seeing Court on the circuit, but I may foist my company upon him sooner since he made the mistake of extending an invite to NC my way. Trips to Costa Rica and Chicago are also potentially on the horizon for more inter-reporter fraternizing. Not to mention my lame ass parked at the Caesars Indiana circuit event amusing those who earned the privilege of reporting on the event.
Finally, I think I am just bummed to not be around the players. In addition to learning so much just from watching them, they were all so unbelievably nice and helpful and funny and all-around good peeps.
Ideally I am going to be back working with the WPT full-time come December focusing specifically on the online poker world, so hopefully I can suffer through these last four months of school relatively quickly and get back to the ridiculously amazing job that is tournament reporting.
Gavin Smith My Ass
So I am working the World Poker Tour Bellagio Cup IV event and I am engrossed in the action at one of the tables.
I hear a familiar voice behind me ask in a shocked tone, "are you taking a picture of her butt?"
I turn around to find one of my favorite photographers, Steve, pointing his camera in a downward angle that does indeed appear to be aimed right at my posterior. I also see one of my favorite players, Gavin Smith, staring at Steve as well and I realize it was him who asked Steve what excatly he was up to.
"You just took a picture of her butt didn't you?"
"Oh...no, I, I was adjusting the settings, see?" Steve says, clearly embarrassed and starting to blush. He futilely tries to show Gavin and I that his camera is not on "photo mode", but Gavin is having none of it.
"That's why you're blushing, you're embarrassed you got caught." Again, Steve tries to explain he was just adjusting the settings. I decide to join in on the ribbing...
"I see how it is Steve, my ass isn't even worth taking a picture of, that's fine."
"Oh trust me," Gavin replies, "it is definitely worth taking a photo of."
I smile to myself, wondering how on earth I ended up where I am and go about my day.
Later, I am once again caught up in the action at a table when I hear the distinct click of a camera shudder. I turn around just in time to see Gavin run up to me and show me the photo of my butt that he's just taken on his phone.
"You know, so you don't feel bad about yourself," he explains.
As play winds down for the night, I walk by the table one more time as I hear Smith tell the table, "anyone want to see a picture of a really cute butt?"
I love the WPT.
I hear a familiar voice behind me ask in a shocked tone, "are you taking a picture of her butt?"
I turn around to find one of my favorite photographers, Steve, pointing his camera in a downward angle that does indeed appear to be aimed right at my posterior. I also see one of my favorite players, Gavin Smith, staring at Steve as well and I realize it was him who asked Steve what excatly he was up to.
"You just took a picture of her butt didn't you?"
"Oh...no, I, I was adjusting the settings, see?" Steve says, clearly embarrassed and starting to blush. He futilely tries to show Gavin and I that his camera is not on "photo mode", but Gavin is having none of it.
"That's why you're blushing, you're embarrassed you got caught." Again, Steve tries to explain he was just adjusting the settings. I decide to join in on the ribbing...
"I see how it is Steve, my ass isn't even worth taking a picture of, that's fine."
"Oh trust me," Gavin replies, "it is definitely worth taking a photo of."
I smile to myself, wondering how on earth I ended up where I am and go about my day.
Later, I am once again caught up in the action at a table when I hear the distinct click of a camera shudder. I turn around just in time to see Gavin run up to me and show me the photo of my butt that he's just taken on his phone.
"You know, so you don't feel bad about yourself," he explains.
As play winds down for the night, I walk by the table one more time as I hear Smith tell the table, "anyone want to see a picture of a really cute butt?"
I love the WPT.
Monday, July 7, 2008
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