Jeff Dubya
New Member
(Excerpted from my full debrief) Wednesday morning was the weekly BJ tournament at the Sahara. Unlike a lot of APs out there, my buddy John didn’t poo poo tournament action. In fact he was pretty excited about it. We took the monorail up to Sahara to register at 11:00 for a 12:00 start. After getting our cards and signing up we went and used up our stupid free comp stuff, free spin, match plays, etc. Then John sat down at a single deck game and started to do his thing. He was down a little and I was even when we had to move over to the tournament. 2 Players from each table advanced. John came in second on his table, meaning he would play again at 3. I came in 3rd on my table, had a pretty good run but at the end could not overcome a noob at the end who put out several large bets through the course of the round and seemed to be a BJ magnet. (Bastard!) So I re-bought for round 2 at 1:00 and that is hardly even worth mentioning I caught such crap cards. So then I did ANOTHER re-buy and played at 2:00. On round 20 I was actually in first place. On the final hand, some dude doubled a hard 18 to catch a 3, and another guy doubled a soft 20 and caught an ace. I had gone the minimum, betting on the dealer to bust everyone out. As it turned out, even though my bet made me look like a noob, it really meant nothing. If I had bet the max and stood on my 17 the way I did, it would have been a loss, and if I had doubled, still a loss. As it was, my minimum bet had no effect on the game, except to keep my 3rd place position. This is the only tournament table I have played at where all the players made it to the last hand. These folks were VERY good. Mostly locals, most with years of experience.
I don’t mind saying I was a bit frustrated. But not more than John who kept going back to that single deck table and was not having great luck. He played in his qualifying round at the tournament and did not advance. We watched a wild card drawing for the final hand, neither of us were picked. I went back to the single deck table and started making some cash. I have to say that although I don’t play a lot of single or double deck games because of the stupid 6:5 payoffs, I really love the pitch games and how they work, look and feel. I love the tactile sensation of handling the cards and the flow. So while I amused myself with nickels and dimes, my buddy John was watching the tables and hanging around to watch the last wild card drawing.
While I was playing, one of my buddies started texting me randomly. And for those of you who have never been, unlike your local casino - cell phones at the tables in Vegas are not allowed, and I’m the kind of guy who tries to follow the rules. So after a while, I simply put the thing on vibrate and ignored his texts while I played.
Unfortunately for me, the last text was John telling me the drawing had started. Then he runs up to me at the table all out of breath to inform me that my ticket had been drawn! We scooped up all my chips and hauled ass to the tournament area but apparently they have a pretty short time limit and I was informed that my slot at a final table had already been given away to another player. DAMN! Well this may have been one of two HUGE lessons for me this trip. I had mentally quit this tournament after those sick splits in round 3. Why did I quit? Why did I do that? Anyhow, that ticket is now laminated and in my wallet with a fortune from a cookie that talks about controlling your own destiny. Of the things I have done in my playing career, this was among the dumbest. If I had finished in the top 3, it would have been a money finish.
So anyhow, we got a coupon for the Sahara buffet with our original buy in, and with John burning a few bucks at the table, he had some comp dollars coming to him, so he graciously bought us a couple of cheapo buffets. Although the food was not great (tasteless) it was needed fuel in our tanks. Then we headed back for the room with a few extra bananas stolen from the buffet line for the following days’ breakfasts. We had talked about going up to Fremont that night, but we were both fairly wiped out. I think John was a little mentally bothered by his losses and I know damn well that I was still pissed about that drawing.
I don’t mind saying I was a bit frustrated. But not more than John who kept going back to that single deck table and was not having great luck. He played in his qualifying round at the tournament and did not advance. We watched a wild card drawing for the final hand, neither of us were picked. I went back to the single deck table and started making some cash. I have to say that although I don’t play a lot of single or double deck games because of the stupid 6:5 payoffs, I really love the pitch games and how they work, look and feel. I love the tactile sensation of handling the cards and the flow. So while I amused myself with nickels and dimes, my buddy John was watching the tables and hanging around to watch the last wild card drawing.
While I was playing, one of my buddies started texting me randomly. And for those of you who have never been, unlike your local casino - cell phones at the tables in Vegas are not allowed, and I’m the kind of guy who tries to follow the rules. So after a while, I simply put the thing on vibrate and ignored his texts while I played.
Unfortunately for me, the last text was John telling me the drawing had started. Then he runs up to me at the table all out of breath to inform me that my ticket had been drawn! We scooped up all my chips and hauled ass to the tournament area but apparently they have a pretty short time limit and I was informed that my slot at a final table had already been given away to another player. DAMN! Well this may have been one of two HUGE lessons for me this trip. I had mentally quit this tournament after those sick splits in round 3. Why did I quit? Why did I do that? Anyhow, that ticket is now laminated and in my wallet with a fortune from a cookie that talks about controlling your own destiny. Of the things I have done in my playing career, this was among the dumbest. If I had finished in the top 3, it would have been a money finish.
So anyhow, we got a coupon for the Sahara buffet with our original buy in, and with John burning a few bucks at the table, he had some comp dollars coming to him, so he graciously bought us a couple of cheapo buffets. Although the food was not great (tasteless) it was needed fuel in our tanks. Then we headed back for the room with a few extra bananas stolen from the buffet line for the following days’ breakfasts. We had talked about going up to Fremont that night, but we were both fairly wiped out. I think John was a little mentally bothered by his losses and I know damn well that I was still pissed about that drawing.
