CLASS ACT
I have fallen in love with the Venetian Resort. Unlike other establishments in Las Vegas, the Venetian greets and sees to the comfort of poker players from the very moment of entry. Since poker gives the house a far lower profit margin than slots or traditional gaming tables, is it not anomalous for poker players to be welcomed with open arms? True, due to the current popularity of the game, the casinos have no choice but to offer Texas Hold ‘Em, Omaha, and variations of seven-card stud. Providing poker space brings in people who might end up playing craps, blackjack and roulette, but as a rule, poker players eschew such frivolities. Why compete against a monolithic juggernaut with the odds in its favor when you can play against other human beings possessed of the same weaknesses and foibles as oneself?
To keynote its difference, The Venetian has posted a sign on the fifth floor of the parking garage offering parking spaces for VIPs and poker players. Hats off to whoever suggested that! Naturally, anyone else is permitted to park there, but it is nice to know that someone in this impersonal city has given thought to those of us whose game of choice entails a good amount of patience, a modicum of discipline and no little cogitation.
Equally significant, the Venetian card room has set aside a comfortable area for players waiting to get into a game. Couches and armchairs are provided while poker magazines are distributed to those interested in tournament results or the opinions of superstars or ordinary beings in the rarified universe of poker. If that isn’t enough, cocktail waitresses come by offering drinks. Let me tell you, no other casino I know of instructs employees to pay attention to players not yet confirmed as clients. Along with the wealthiest men in the nation, Mr Edelson (founder and majority shareholder of the Venetian) deserves to be on a list of America’s most considerate men.
Another factor that sets the Venetian apart is the classical music piped into the men’s room (lady’s room too, I assume), a welcome relief from the tinny elevator tunes you hear just about everywhere else. Yesterday it was Tchaikovsky rather than the more appropriate Vivaldi (a citizen of that other Venice), but is there really all that much difference between the residence of the Czars and the Palace of the Doges?
Elegance, of course, is anything but understated at The Venetian. Appreciate it or not, this is Las Vegas. Garishness is part of the ambience. Designer carpets and acres of marble are supposed to be on permanent display. While we are at it, I’ll let you in on a secret: Old Venice, that city on the Adriatic is not exactly a prototype of modesty, or a locale noted for simplicity and restraint. Let it all hang out, I say, and who cares if Nevada gondoliers sing Neapolitan love songs rather than melodies from Northeastern Italy? Those fellows paddling and poling on the lagoon have been doing it for decades.
I have a confession to make. Lately I have been winning at the Venetian. ‘Pour’vu que ca dure,’ as Napoleon’s mother used to say (‘Just let it last.’) Naturally, I can think of nothing greater to reinforce the profundity of my feelings for a casino/resort than a genuine hot streak. Who knows why one place is lucky while another is a forbidden city where one cannot win a single pot? Take yesterday. Bought in for $200 at a $2-$5 No Limit Texas Hold ‘Em game, I went all-in with a suited ace-king on the second hand dealt me. A gentleman called holding pocket sevens. Both an ace and a king appeared on the board, but no seven. Several hands after doubling my stake, it was my turn to be dealt pocket sevens. Raising the big blind to $20, I was called by the same gentleman. The flop was a rainbow 3-4-6. I checked. My opponent bet $50. I called. The turn was the two of spades. I bet $150.
“Call and all-in,” said the fellow, turning over a pair of fours. No, I did not hit another seven, but the five of diamonds gave me a straight.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home