MINI TOURNAMENTS

                                

         After a string of tough losses at Texas Hold ‘Em, I promised to stay away from casinos for at least a week.  What do you know?   I almost made it. Actually, I believe I would have pulled it off if my son hadn’t come to town.  Accepting the dictum that family loyalty should prevail over a promise made under duress, I reluctantly (well, almost) acceded to my offspring’s desire to participate in a tournament.  What’s that, you say?  Didn’t the World Series of Poker Tournament end a little while ago?  Yes, it did, but that has nothing to do with the scores of mini tournaments held weekly in Las Vegas.  So if you are looking for tournament action, go to Anthony Curtis’s excellent web site (www.lasvegasadvisor.com) and you will not only learn where to find poker tournaments any time of day (or night), but just about everything else going on in this Valley of Transgression.

 

        Since I was paying for both son and self, I sought out a relatively inexpensive locale.  That’s right, I wanted to limit our losses.  Can you think of a better reason for participating in tournaments rather than playing in cash games?  The Aladdin, with its $60 one-time buy-in fit the bill perfectly, and other than racing from a parking lot half way to Death Valley, we found both the casino and its adjoining Desert Passage much to our liking. 

 

        Oh the ignominy of it all!  While son Alexander steadily progressed, Papa was immediately eliminated.  Of the forty-eight players present, I alone was first to bow out. Like the Old Grey Mare, this Paris Poker Pro is not what he used to be!   Bad luck, you ask?  That's not it.  Dealt 5D-6D on the third hand, I went all-in on a flop of

JS-7H-4H.  How was I supposed to know someone was holding AH-JH?  Okay, it was a stupid bet (for a tournament, less so for a cash game), but perhaps I was influenced by an empty seat at the $1-$2 No Limit game taking place behind me. 

 

        Dammit all, I had to wait two and a half hours before Alex was finally eliminated in seventh position, one player out of the money.  Oh well, I must admit my impatience was assuaged by a $280 victory.

 

        Since sonny boy had such fun ( I wasn't complaining either), the following evening we returned to the Aladdin early enough to lose $100 at roulette before the poker tourney commenced.  That’s Vegas for you.  Sooner or later you are likely to get suckered into playing a table game with shameful odds against you. 

 

        Poor Alexander.  He lasted nearly an hour until his pair of tens lost to a set of sixes.  As for Papa, not this time!  I’m telling you, I hit straights and flushes and paired-up as though I were the horniest client of the hottest dating service around.  By the time we hit the final table there was no doubt who was chip leader.  I even had the pleasure of eliminating a tiresome smart aleck who, after doubling the pot with big slick, went all-in when a king appeared on the flop.  Staring at my wired aces, the look on his face was worth the entry fee.

 

        “Why didn’t you raise my original bet?” he asked.

 

        “I was hoping you 'd do my dirty work for me,” I said. 

 

        He threw his cards in the air, and uttered an unpleasant remark.  That was the sole display of anger or petulance I encountered all evening.  Everyone else acted in the manner of Phil Ivey or Doyle Brunson rather than like some other Phil or Mouthful Mike.  Even the young man who came in second shook my hand and patted me on the back when my J-10 beat his A-J thanks to a ten on the river.   From first eliminated on Wednesday evening to champion twenty-four hours later, I ask you, how can you not love this crazy game?  

 

        I gave half my $620 winnings to Alexander.  Aren’t parents supposed to be suckers for their children?  No big deal, that!  I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after, and for all you know, if I win another tournament, maybe next year I’ll sign up for the World Series of Poker.