Saturday, August 07, 2004

Borgata pre-trip report 

What a horrible ommision. How could I not include defending blogger tourney champ, Otis? My only excuse is my missing brain cells after a night of drinking were not firing properly. I'll make it up by giving him my chips at the next poker blogger tourney.

Go to the blogfather's site for tournament details. Iggy has set up the tourney on Pacific again is open to blogger and reader's.


A short post, more to come later.

Landow managed to drag me down to the Borgata yesterday completely against my will :)

It was long day with some really crazy hands. We sat at the same NL table for 11 hours and did some real battling and grinding. I was waaaay up, the waaaay down to the felt. Then I channeled Brunson and built my stack back up and finished up for the day.

We had a great time and some crazy hands that will really take some time to writeup. Landow can't wait for me to writeup one of the early hands when I took a huge chunk of his stack and it took him hours to stop steaming and actually talk to me again. To his credit, he never went on tilt but he damn skippy wasn't talking to me other than saying "K2c. Really?" Yeah, it was a brutal cracking of Aces.

We saw a raise back and fort between two huge stacks. Lotsa tension between the two players who eventually both went all-in preflop. And both had AA and split the blinds for all that effort.

When I was shortstacked, I pushed all-in a bunch of times looking for callers. Got a few to double up but more often picking up the blinds and limpers.

Anyway, that's another post for later. DSL line is hosed and I'm stuck with dial-up for the weekend.


Thursday, August 05, 2004

Poker Blogger Dream Team 

Stop the presses! I, mediocre player and slacker extraordinaire, actually played 45 entire minutes on Party last night. I happened to find an open seat to the right of both BoyGenius and SloeJack. 45 minutes = $57 profit and a crap load of fun. They were both to my immediate left, so every time I was on the button, they were in the blinds. I was only on the button 5 times during the short session and I raised 4 of the 5 hands and won all 4.

Including the hand that resulted in BG making the following statement after we checked out the hand history:

when you see it like that, you just want to go read sklansky for the next week and not even bother logging in

One limper to me on the button and I made the min-raise with QJo. Sloejack (SB), BG (BB) and limper (EP) all just called.

I don't post hand histories, but my pair of Q's held up against BG's pocket JJ and he led the betting to the river.

It probably didn't help the matter that I kept chatting "No Limping!" every time. I can be a bastard.


I requested Ask the Hippy questions, and SloeJack hit me with a beauty.

...if everyone from the blogging community went pro, who would you invest in
to bankroll and why?

Excellent question and it made me go through the actual and mental archives to come up with an answer.

The first idea that popped into my mind was, "Hey, Paul Phillips has a blog!". I quickly discarded that idea. One, he damn skippy doesn't need my money. Two, the business relationship would quickly evaporate the first time I called him Gus.

My second idea caused Dr. Pauly to call me wishy washy and should run for office. I'm not going to pick one blogger, I'm going to create the first Fantasy Blogger Poker Dream Team (crowd roars!)

Going on the assumption that I was the soul winner of the largest Powerball prize, giving me unlimited funds, who would I pick and why.

First, I can't pick the wifey. She's a mean poker player but she's not a blogger.

I start by moving the entire team to Vegas and we prepare for the WSoP by playing every tournament and ring game we can find. Everyone plays, but everyone also has a specialty.

I have to pick the Blogfather himself as my rock-solid tourney guy. It's been awhile since I've watched him play a tourney, but it's a thing of beauty.

HDub is my highstakes ring specialist. After Iggy knocks players (especially the dog-faced boy Affleck) out of each tourney, HDub cleans their wallets at the tables.

Felicia is my Stud specialist (how that doesn't come out sounding dirty, I don't know). With a well-rounded team, I can feel my investment growing already.

Grubby is my wildcard. He finds the juiciest games (even non-poker games, GASP!) and hits them hard. He quickly gains fame and is featured on the Travel Channel Las Vegas Whale special.

BoyGenius has a special job. He's Italian, he likes gambling, and he loves the ponies. No sense being completely legal since we're being hypothetical. He's our number runner. Plus, he can take care of the poker groupies and make sure they don't get out of hand. Tough job, but I think he can handle it.

Pauly and PokerProf have very special assignments. Someone has to document the historical accomplishments of the Dream Team. PokerProf will take care of the game action detail; Pauly will no doubt be enjoying and writing about the outside aspects of the game. Pauly also will double as the team's 'herbal' therapist. He makes even more money by selling the screenplay of his great American novel written about the Dream Team.

The camera shows a stone-faced Felicia after being beaten by another horrendous one outter by Dutch Boyd (made even more annoying because Ben Affleck is playing his part) at the 2005 RAZZ final table. The camera pans toward Boyd/Afflect who's going into his histrionic fist pumping when suddenly our hero, Sean, comes blasting out of the crowd and lays a WWF quality spear on the villain. When Boyd's backward's cap goes flying off, Sean is instantly America's favorite poker player.

Last but not least, my closer. You've got to make a name for yourself and you've got to play the big guys in the big games. Who else is going to make Brunson, TJ, and Amarillo Slim(shady) shake in the their boots? The giant killer, Scott aka. TheFatGuy.

As Scott approaches the table, TJ leans over to ever-grinning Affleck and says, "Good lord son, that's a real genuine, ass whoopin' Texan headin' over here. You best git back to your 1-3 Stud game before you have to make Armageddon 2 with a brand new set of chompers."

There you have it. Those would be my top picks if I had money to bankroll anyone to play poker. How can that crew not bring home a boatload of money for the investors plus a handful of bracelets?

Now I'll just have to start buying Powerball tickets!


Wednesday, August 04, 2004

"....we've drank a godless amount of alcohol tonight."

BigMike to me last night


Pics to come tomorrow from last night's festivities. I have no idea what they're going to be except there is another greeting in there for BG. Unfortunately, they're stuck in Landow's camera and he was in no condition to transfer them last night.

I do remembering doing a dead-on Karaoke version on Coolio's Gansta Rap. Dead-on if Coolio was a white, fat, rhythm-less, slightly (heh) intoxicated jag off.


Ripping off Peter King from Sport's Illustrated...

Ten Things I Think I know

10. I think watching the Stud games on ESPN make my head all squishy.

9. I think Southern Comfort should be approved for medicinal purposes so my insurance will pay for my binges. (They'll pay one way or the other!)

8. No man (or three in this case) should ever perform Wham! Wake Me Up and take it seriously. Ever.

7. I think anyone who drinks Southern Comfort any way other than straight from bottle to glass is a filthy heathen.

6. I think I want to take off work and go to the Borgata on Friday. Who wants to bankroll the long hair?

5. I think I have the bestest wifey in the world for putting up with my crap.

4. I think the Eagles will have 19 wins this season. (ok, maybe the booze is still talking)

3. I think Pauly's skull and brain cells are going to resemble an atom crusher in overdrive starting on Monday.

2. I think that Anthrax's Dallabnikufesin is the greatest rock ballad ever.

1. I think I have no clue what I'm talking about and my blogger membership card should be revoked.


How about another round of Ask the Hippy? Ask me anything, nothing is out of bounds. Especially those visitors who haven't commented before. Make yourself known, drop a line and say Howdy.

I was considering copying BoyGenuis' 100 Things About Me idea (and really pissing him off by linking to it). Until I realized I could only find 13 random things that might be remotely interesting. 11 of them were related to booze, 1 to poker, and 1 to some weird twitch I get occasionally that no one really needs to know about.


So bring on the questions!


A sign of the apocalypse. Phil Hellmuth admitting a mistake AND giving an opponent credit.

Meanwhile, what was I thinking? All I had to do was sit back for awhile and protect my chips until it was the right time to run over the table. Instead I tried to bluff a player that is very good at making the tough calls. Duh!


Ah man, don't you know that you get drunk AFTER the DUI hearing?

DUI Defendant Comes to Court Drunk

UNIONTOWN, Pa. - Something smelled rotten when Michael Hanczyk showed up in court to fight a drunken driving charge. Authorities say it was the booze on his breath.


From Jerry about yesterday's post.

Did you get any of the lymies to join you in some Soco?

NO! Can you believe that a modern football facility does not have a single bar? Sure, they have beer stands, but not a bar to be found. So no Soco.

I fully expected a bar. The Wachovia Center (Flyers and Sixers) has a micro-brewery, Citizen's Bank Park (Philllies) has many bars. Even the old Spectrum has a bar called Bullie's. But not a single one at the football stadium.


Alright. That's enough for today. This was written several hours ago but I started reading everyone else and forgot to post.


Thanks for stopping by.


Tuesday, August 03, 2004

Chelsea v AC Milan match 

Before I write about the Chelsea v AC Milan match last night, go read Mean Gene's Sklansky - Sex post. He's been promising it for awhile and it was worth the wait. It's posts like this that really make me realize what a chump hack I am. But I am fun, drunk hack.

On a sad note, condolences go out to Iggy on the passing of Monty. The mighty cat put up a brave fight.

On the upside, congrats to my friend, DJ Scuba Steve on the birth of his twin boys. Alas, the voting pool for naming one of the sons was useless. Neither has a first or middle name of Al. Congrats anyway, I guess. Now get back to work.


We arrived at Lincoln Financial Field about 30 minutes before kick-off. We had excellent seats, 20 rows directly behind the goal, in the Chelsea supporter section. This was my first trip to the Linc. My lord do they have huge screens on either side of the field. More importantly, my biggest impression of the Linc was the cost of the beer. If you wanted anything other than Bud or Bud Light, be prepared for $7.50 for a decent brew. Oy.

I'll say this right off the bat. I love English Football fans. They could teach American sports fans a thing or two about supporting your club/team. 90 minutes of the craziest songs / chants and the whole section was jamming and stood for the entire match.

Chelsea scored first and the supporters went bonkers. It wasn't really evident how loud the section was until we realized how completely outnumbered we were.

When AC Milan scored their first goal, the rest of the stadium exploded into cheers. Good Lord, except for our section and some smaller areas of blue, the entire stadium was pulling for AC Milan.

I guess that should be expected with an Italian team playing in South Philly.

Even as the AC Milan cheers were settling down after the goal, the Chelsea supporters picked up right where they left off and continued to be louder than the other 90% of the crowd. The AC Milan supports were sitting on their hands the entire match.

That was just during the first half. Apparently, a large amount of Chelsea supporters were in the upper level and came down to our lower section for the second half.

It was enough to make a Phillies / Eagles fan proud. These guys were nuts. I'm not even sure I could post what they were chanting about Crespo, a useless bag of flesh that wasted money with the club last year, now playing for AC Milan.

We hadn't noticed there were 5 or 6 young men sporting AC Milan gear around the 10th row. Once their beer starting kicked in, they made the terrible mistake of attempting to compete vocally with the rest of the section. At this point, they were pummeled with celery. Don't ask.
Celery, Celery
If she don't come,
I'll tickle her bum
with a lump of celery

Mid-point through the second half, the security contingent was up from 2 to at least a dozen surrounding just our section. Video cameras were redirected and photo-journalist made a mad dash around the field to capture the craziness. The young gun in the AC Milan skirt starting going back and forth with a fine older English gentleman, who was at least 40 years older and half a foot shorter. This fine example of English spirit taught me, a master in the fine art of foul language, new levels of profanity. Credit the kid for never backing down. That may be attributed to the crap-load of blue shirts between him and the old man.

Here's the one and only pic we got of the small group of Chelsea Supporters behind us. These were the ones who got the whole section rolling.

If I thought all the craziness had reached it's peak, some smartass walked into the section wearing a ManU shirt. All thoughts of AC Milan went right out the door. I was surprised that the security guards at Linc, probably not knowing much about the game, realized the trouble that was about to occur and quickly escorted him out the door.
'Cause we are the Chelsea and we are the best,
We are the Chelsea so Fuck all the rest

Oh yeah, there was a match also. After taking a 2 -1 lead in at half, Chelsea gave up two after bringing on their scrubs, and AC Milan only made two substitutions.

We had a great time. I don't think I'll have a problem now talking the wifey into heading to London for a few matches. Although I doubt I'll make August 15th home match against ManYoo.

Thanks go out to Landow for driving and dealing with the hour it took to get from our parking spot to I95, a block away.


Hey, the Phillies didn't lose last night.


Monday, August 02, 2004

"...now give me a monster post with a lot of bad beats, huge pots, and
drunk chick pics!"

Jerry to me in the comments.

It's not my fault. This post would have been up hours ago if it wasn't for Iggy, Grubby, BoyGenius, Pauly, HDub, etc. All the big guys have big posts from the weekend. Remember, I'm just a poker blog reader. This blog soul purpose is to make me eligible for the blogger tourneys. The other guys are the real deal.

It was a very solid, well rounded weekend. Lot's of poker, both live and online. Plus, huge HUGE amounts of drinking. Monstrous. So big (sorry Jerry) that I don't have a single picture from the entire weekend.

First the poker. I planned on playing at least the Saturday and Sunday 10:30am multi's on Party. I'm still working on my NL tourney experience and I can gain cheap lessons in these games. Plus, it's usually the best time to sit tourney's with other bloggers. Saturday, it was just BG, Derek, and myself. Landow was playing but he doesn't count 'cause he sucks anyway.

(I'm not even a little bitter that his camera batteries died on Saturday. My fault for not bringing my own).

I should have known the Saturday tourney was not going to go well. Very first hand, pocket rockets. I raised from T15 to T100. Very big raise considering it's the first hand, but here's my thinking. THIS IS A $5 PARTY MULTI! I not only expected a couple of calls, but it wasn't outrageous to expect a re-raise all-in. Naturally, everyone fold to me. Woohoo, I made 25 god damn tournament dollars with AA on the first hand.

I don't have specifics on the rest of tourney. My legs got chopped out from under me early but I managed to double through a couple of times to feel real comfortable heading into the second break. Just before the second break, the standard questionable Party call broke me down to the felt and I was out a couple hands later. No reason to dwell on the bad beats. I don't remember slamming my fist threw the wall so I must not have been too bad.

I spent the rest of the tourney sweating BG who finished well into the money. As I was sitting by the rail, he would IM me and ask me about a particular hand. Not what I would do, but what the wifey would do. Smartass.


Sunday morning 10:30 tourney. Not even worth talking about. I couldn't see the screen, cards, chip count, etc. due to the activities of the night before. I only had a couple hours of restless, drunken, blackout sleep. Bed spins + poker = ~1,200 out of ~1,400. Good lord.

It was instinctive to get up and head for the tourney but I couldn't wait to crawl back into bed afterward.


Sunday afternoon. A perfect antidote for my hangover. My friend Tony promised me a 'fish' dinner with some work friends who really wanted to play some hold'em. First question of the afternoon from them, What are blinds?

I dragged the missus out of bed and off we went. As I cleared the cobwebs out of my head, I took some nasty beats and lost most of my buy-in pretty quickly. The wifey started dragging some big pots and I was getting some good reads on the newbies. They sucked. How's that for a read?

While I was preparing for the dreaded, Wifey wins and I lose post, I began to pick up some pots. Little ones here and there to repair my stack. Earlier in the afternoon, newbie to my right had a habit of pushing all-in and taking down the pot without a showdown. I never had anything decent to call him down.

Then I flopped a third 6 to match my pocket pair and there was an Ace on the flop. I bet out about half the pot hoping one of the newbies had an Ace. Sure enough, the guy to my right raises all-in. Just to really kick him in the junk, the Turn gave me quad 6's.

Short and to the point, the guy to my right pushed all-in three times and I took down every one. Newbie to the left called my all-in and I took that one down.

It was a crazy, loose/passive table. Very few pre-flop raises and most people seeing the flop. I took some brutal beats but enough big pots to double up.

The wifey feasted as well, catching quads once and tripled up on the fishes for the night.



So I've basically been somewhere between mildly buzzed to obliterated from 6pm Thursday evening to Sunday ?:??pm.

Friday night was a drinking sprint. My friend Kevin was around for the first time in awhile and we drank like it would be months before the next time we could get together.

What few memories I have of the night involve Landow and Becky in a weird wrasslin' match on the dance floor. Of course, this was after BigMike showed up every 10 minutes with more SoCo doubles (and some Goldslager for Becky).

Somewhere along the line, MonkeyBoy Jr. was even making new friends.

Saturday night was the highlight though.

Off to see my friends play at a local bar for the first time in awhile. It was great to hear some good, crunching, guitar-driven, ear-shattering, brain-melting rock. I may call myself a hippy, but you'll have a much better chance of seeing me at an Anthrax show than a Phish show. No offense intended to Dr. Pauly.

I had a great time sitting around with the guys telling band stories from the good ol' days before I got old (ie. married, sorry dear) and they started playing away from the Philly area. Stories and drinks (including some abomination Grey Goose Kamikaze, ech) for the two hours before the show lit the guys up pretty well and their three sets were screaming.

At this point, if I was a proper blogger, I would have the set list written up. But I'm not, so I don't.

Last song before the encore, Walk by Pantera. Drummer and lead singer change places with Anthony the drummer bringing out an ancient, water-filled fire extinguisher. He searched and searched and finally found me to the right of the stage and I was done for. Luckily I was able to get my glasses to the wifey before the drenching, the last time he caught me, my glasses were never found.

Three sheets to the wind, soaked to the bone (thank christ, 'cause it was 100 degrees in the bar), and nasty, over the top music. I was one happy drunk.

Somewhere between the ugly lights coming on and the bouncers pushing us out the door, I even remembered to pay my bar tab.

In the wee hours of the morning, the wifey poured me into the house. Only a couple of hours til the Sunday Party tourney, christ I have a problem.


Everyone raise your hand if you think Al's get a teensy bit of a drinking problem?

Me? I'll just trust the old standby. I drink, I get drunk, I fall down, No problem.


We're rolling down the Linc in Philly for the Chelsea FC v. AC Milan soccer football match. I'm a long time Chelsea supporter but I've been stuck watching them on TV. They were away from Stamford Bridge on our trip to London. The wifey even starting talking smack on saturday to some poor schmuck wearing an AC Milan jersey at the bar. She's a good girl.

Do you really think the Chelsea supporters will notice when I'm drunk?


If you're still awake and with me, go check out the links on the right. I'm just an outlet if you get bored.


Poor, poor MonkeyBoy Jr. All alone.


Did I mention September 25th? Can't remember. That's bonus code IGGY on Party, IGGY1 on Empire. Support the blogfather who brings us so many fine posts. (If Wil Wheaton can pimp Iggy, damn skippy I can!)


Smart Jones is retiring from racing. I'll always remember him as the Philly horse who lost the triple crown while I was in Yankee Stadium for the first time, sitting along side Dr. Pauly, only hours after Ronald Reagan passed away.


Thanks for stopping by again. I appreciate my 5 new readers!

Pics tomorrow from the Chelsea game.