You Only Sing When You’re Wynning!

The countdown to Las Vegas is on! I’ll be stepping onto the big iron bird in less than a fortnight, all being well. I say all being well because I’ve not yet applied for my ESTA but I don’t have a criminal record that I’m aware of, so everything should sail through.

I’ve delayed getting my ESTA because I’m going to sort out the Mrs’ at the same time. That delay is caused by her passport being a bit on the shabby side, and having a few baggage stickers on it. I know the U.S. border folk can be twats even when they’re in a good mood, so it’s best not to poke the angry bear by handing them a sub-standard passport; we’re picking a new one up from Liverpool on Wednesday.

Everything else is sorted. We’ve got flights, although we have to fly from Heathrow, $20 million worth of travel insurance, and our hotels booked. WPT Global is putting us up in the Wynn Las Vegas for five nights before we head to Treasure Island for the last three nights of the trip.

Staying at The Wynn and Treasure Island

The Wynn looks incredible, and is somewhere that would ordinarily be outside our budget. I stayed in the Extended Stay on East Flamingo during my six weeks in Vegas in 2013 and again in 2014, making this a massive upgrade. The Extended Stay is great for, well, an extended stay in Vegas, and the last time around, I had someone living in the apartment below me who had a selection of slices of turf with him. He’d regularly sit stroking them in the window when I was heading to work, which was a little unnerving yet perfectly fitting with the place.

My only previous experience at the Wynn was being turned away from their steak restaurant. I turned up with a friend, hoping to sample some famous Las Vegas steak, but we were wearing shorts. They were smart shorts, but shorts nonetheless. A young lady told me I was a scruffy fucker and that I’d be more suited to the buffet. She was so nice that I apologised to her for wasting her time. My friend and I ended up winning at the Wynn because it was something like $25 for the buffet with endless wine. The staff wanted to get off home, so they gave us some of those big “only in America” sized takeaway cups brimming with vino if we fucked off and let them leave.

I’ve never been to Treasure Island, so that will be something new. We’re responsible for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday nights, two of the three most expensive nights in Sin City. Treasure Island was the most cost-effective – read that as cheapest – hotel that ticked all our boxes.

Running Hand Ranges and Another Near Miss

There has been little poker playing since my last update. I promised myself that I would only fire up some poker tournaments if I were in the right frame of mind to take them seriously. Being busy, tired, or busy and tired limited me to seven tournaments last week.

I bubbled one, finishing 385 from 2,932 with 355 paid. I was a little pissed off with myself because my line made zero sense, and villain made a good call with second pair crap kicker to send me to the showers. Another

I did cash in one tournament, busting 84th from 1,448 entrants. My exit hand there was super standard, open-shoving ten big blinds with K♣6♣ from the cutoff and losing to the button’s Q♣Q♥.

A Crazy Hand Gone Wrong

As part of my experiment of different playing styles, a crazy hand came up. We’re relatively early into the tournament, with the blinds being 200/400/50a. Nutcase under the gun min-raises to 800, UTG+1 three-bets to 2,713, the cutoff flat-calls the three-bet, and I look down at A♠K♠ from a 135 big blind stack. What the fuck do you do here?

Folding is not an option; calling seems weak as piss, too. So I did what any self-respecting fish would do and pumped it up to 12,602. My thinking at the time was the nutter UTG is folding, the three-bettor probably mucks after, and I’m left with the guy in the cutoff to worry about; I should probably have said I cover them all.

Anyway, the best-laid plans of mice and men and all that because the initial raise calls my raise, and UTG+1 rips it in for 32,379! FFS! The cutoff has seen enough, putting the action back onto me. UTG+1 shover starts spamming emojis, and I should get out of the way at this point, although I’m getting three-to-one, which sounds lovely, so I shove. Initial raiser snap-folds and villain flips over J♥10♠. You know what’s coming next. A 4♦8♥2♣ flop is safe as houses for me, as is the 6♥ turn. The 10♣ river was a bit of a cunt, to be fair.

I believe I butchered the hand, but any feedback is welcomed.

Aside from getting frisky with Big Slick, I’ve been playing around with a fantastic range tool. Gareth James gave me early access to the ranges tool he’s been working on, and I have to say it has been an eye-opener. The tool itself is easy to use, and it shows I am way too tight in most preflop spots, although I had an inkling about that. I’m looking forward to opening my ranges over the next few sessions and seeing how that translates to post-flop play. It will be interesting to see my VPIP etc, now I know I’ve been playing like a nit and comparing it to what this tool suggests is optimal.

Until next time, don’t go mental with suited ace-king!