Follow-up to 2007 WPBT Summer Classic - In Vegas, Baby!

Let me start the post with this -- I've had too much to drink.

Next...

I've read the re-caps of the blogger tourney, and I should do a little follow up to explain how I played (and won.)

So the structure at the Orleans sucked my ass. And the poker room manager was a cocksucker. Truly. I don't use that term lightly. As a matter of fact, I don't know that I have ever called anyone a cocksucker. But he was one. So much so, that when I was at like my third table, he came over and hovered over our table, telling everyone what to do and when. "FOLD NOW! PUSH YOUR CARDS IN! TURN THEM OVER!" and shit like that. I had the distinct impression that we were not welcome there. They just wanted to take our money and push us the hell out. Which made me mad. And yeah, I'm little and all, but you don't make this Scottish girl mad. Bitches.

Anyway, by the time I got to the final table, I was ornery. Then when we decided to chop and give everyone their buy-in back, my attitude shifted. I'm typically a pretty tight player. So when I knew I had nothing to lose, AND I was short stacked, I played to win. Yes, I probably played some marginal hands, but I bet you would've, too, had you been in my position. For those of you who think I played poorly, put yourself in my position. You've got your buy-in back, the room manager is standing over your head like a father chaperoning a first date, and you get a semi-decent hand. What do you do? As my mom always says, you either "shit or get off the pot." So I decided to shit. And shit again. And keep shitting until I had some ground to stand on. It wasn't until it got to heads up with Grubette that I actually stepped back and switched my mode of thinking from "tread water to survive!" to "alright lady, it's time to play some poker."

I don't think my real skills came into play until heads up time. The structure went so damn fast that it was all I could do to stay afloat. It really was a crapshoot there for a while. But I feel pretty good about my heads-up play. All I know is that the dickhead manager at the Orleans took a big 'ole crap in his britches. And I hope he enjoyed the soothing warmth, cause he won't be feeling it from us again.

Thanks again to Falstaff and Sloshr for setting everything up. And keep in mind it's not their fault the room manager screwed us... They worked hard to pull everything together, and for that I am grateful.