Bellagio 100-200 Trip Report - May 29, 1999

Mrs. Rock and I arrived at the Bellagio on Sat May 29, for our fifth 10-days-or-so visit this year. Been pretty much loving the 30-60 HE games, but on our last visit (during WSOP), I had ventured into the 60-120 HE, my highest limit ever, and really liked that too. Was hoping to play it again, but was told that they had not spread any 60-120 since the WSOP, but that a 100-200 HE seat was open. I was tempted, but declined, thinking "No way. I could blow my whole trip-bank in one session."

$100-200 Texas Hold 'Em. Holy shit. While playing 3-6 at the Stardust in '94-'95, we felt majorly intimidated by our perception that the Mirage 10-20 and 20-40 would be filled with tough players who would eat us alive. We did step up to that level in late '95, when our local reservation casino started spreading it, then played it in Vegas too, and did pretty OK. Repeating now what I said in my Jan '98* Mirage trip report: We still feel that we're not particularly good, but can still win because so much of the opposition plays really badly.

(* I'm now up to posting an average of 4 times/yr on RGP. Think I'll change my screen name to "Spammer")

30-60 to 100-200 is a big step! I longed for some waystation, say 50-100, but the Bellagio staff was disinterested. So, I formed this plan: Win enough at 30-60 for a strong 100-200 buy-in, and take a shot. My horse fell coming out of the gate. Over four days I instead blew half of my trip-bank in the 30-60. I may have suffered some PTMH, CTMR and/or TMC (please see below.) Now, I ONLY HAD ENOUGH LEFT for one strong 100-200 buy-in. Plan B: Take a shot anyway.

So, Weds nite, Jun 2, Sergeant Rock put on the camouflage and thought of that ridiculous line in Rounders: "Gimme two stacks of high society..." when he told floorlady Carmen "Two racks, please." Of Green. Gulp.

The butterflies settled down within 15 minutes or so after I sat down. One nice thing I noticed right away is that, as you're counting small bets for figuring pot-odds, you automatically know the pot-size in dollars without any more math. How convenient.

Anyway, I played the 1-2 game for about 50 hours over the next 6 days.

There is a *very strong* local player in the game. Scary.

There is a mystery man in the game. Here's a guy who will cold-call a pre-flop raise with K-T off, but who is widely reputed to have won a lot of money at these games for some years. He shows down some really weird stuff, but *seems* to have a strong talent for knowing where he's at most of the time. Scary. I long for the day when a player like this will be less of a mystery to me.

There are a couple of Mega-fish in the game. Thank you, Lord.

There are a couple of semi-tough and very (overly?) aggesssive players. They're also a mystery to me; I dunno how they survive.

There are a couple of fishy tourists in the game who, like me, normally play a lower limit at home, but are stepping up because, hey, what the hell, this is Vegas, and I might make a big score.

It's a safe bet that *everyone* in the game is better bankrolled than I am. That's why I bought two racks. I don't want them to know that my wallet is empty. (I can always look to Mrs. Rock for help there. That's what I love about her: she always has her own buy-in, and will even give me one now and then. Usually when man thinks of his woman as "my little money-maker," like I do, it has a somewhat seedier connotation. )

Except for the very strong local player, all these folks seemed to be afflicted with both PTMH (Playing too many hands) and CTMR (Calling too many raises,) not to mention just plain-old TMC (Too much calling) in general.

It was surprising how many players with big tournament, no limit, or pot limit reputations seemed to exhibit "calling-station" behavior.

It was sad to see how much more dealer abuse occurs at this level. Those dealers take a lot of crap from some really obnoxious people. Still, they seemed to realize that the biggest jerks tend to also be the biggest producers, and they kept their cool very well.

I carefully played the best game I possibly could. Several times I found myself playing "better" than I might have in a smaller game. Example: I get 99 UTG. The current personality of the game is: 8 players dealt in. Usually a raise (or two) and usually 2-4 players see a flop, often having called that raise with "trouble hands." Most of them will go to the river with any big or semi-big flopped pair, kicker be damned, hoping the orig. raiser/leader is bluffing.

So... if I limp, I'll likely get raised by a "cutoff" move, lack position, and be trying to flop a set for (on average) 3-way action in a raised pot. If the flop is all undercards, I'm just as likely to be facing a straight or straight-draw. No thanks.

If I raise, I'll likely get called by a couple players who likely will call (or raise) me on most flops, and call to the river as described above. No thanks.

The chance that my raise would win the blinds is very small.

So, I muck 99 UTG, because I'm paying careful attention to the game's mood swings. Later, when that changes, I get 88 UTG, and raise.

All the time I'm thinking to myself "Hey, dummy, why would you EVER play less-optimally than this at ANY level?" I guess my point is that playing at a level that- well it didn't quite scare me, or I wouldn't/couldn't have played it- let's say a level where you have extreme respect for the stakes, causes you to play "better," and then causes you to realize that you should always "play better."

It was fich (remember fich?) who said that "I don't need to study any more poker theory; I already know how to play much better than I do."

And it was Mr. Caro who understated that "It's OK to always play your best game."

The players I faced almost all had way more experience than me. More moves than me. More bankroll than me. If I had any advantage over them, it was patience, resolve, a greater desire to make good decisions than to "win the pot," and emotional stability (tilt avoidance.) I don't get angry when I lose a pot. I do like to brag about victories, but I've never told a bad beat story, thrown cards, cursed (or blamed) a dealer or asked for a new deck in my (short) poker playing career. Truth be told, I love to "suffer" bad beats; the badder the better. Lay them on me.

Probably the most common OTBS (Opportunity to be stupid) in the 1-2 (or any?) game was the temptation to try to run over a loose player who isn't going anywhere. I faced this (and other) OTBS many times in the 100-200, but thankfully, passed on most of them. In six days of play, I ran exactly two bluffs, having picked the spots carefully, and both took down the pots. It would certainly be necessary to bluff more often in other games, but not this one!

Over six days I won some and lost some. It was absolutely the most excitement I've ever experienced while fully clothed. I woke up on Monday June 7, the last day, even for 1-2 but still way down for 30-60 (I seized too many OTBS there! Why?)

Lady Luck smiled upon me. Our flight was 7 pm. They started a 100-200 at 3 pm. The strong local and the mystery man took the day off, and the the game was the softest we'd seen. Even though we'd agreed the night before that I was done with 1-2 until I won a few 1-2 buy-ins at 30-60, Mrs. Rock urged me to get in. I got in. At 4:30pm Mrs. Rock SHOCKED me by asking "Can we take a later flight?" God, I love that woman. It's usually ME who lobbies HER for a trip exension. Anyway, I called Alaska Air, and switched us to the midnight flight.

Then the mini-rush I had been on became a Mega-Rush. I played far, far fewer hands than anyone else in the game (wasn't hard; they played any damn thing) but nearly everything I did play held up. The weakest hand I showed down all day was 88, which flopped a set and rivered a boat to beat (apparently) a turned straight. (I also played a 55 multi way, which also flopped a set and rivered a boat- but no show.)

My other plays were all real premium hands, but they held up at a way-better-than-usual rate. Like nearly 100%. I think I lost one showdown all day. By 10:30pm, I had sold many chips to other players and had my orig. buy-in (and then some) in front of me in cash, but still had so many chips that I couldn't cash them all without filling out paperwork. So... I colored up to one white "Flag" (5K) chip, cashed the rest, and we ran to the airport, now with serious trip sugar, and me with a new session-win record.

I'm back home, again intranet webmastering for your favorite aerospace giant. Took the flag chip to work today and showed it off to the boss, to lend credibility to my story about why I was a day late getting back. She bought it. How could she not?

My heart and soul are still in Vegas. My discorporate body (and the flag chip) will join them on July 3. Can't wait.

Sgt Rock
aka WoodRack

If Bill Gates had a nickel for every time Windows ever crashed, then he could... Oh. Wait a minute. He does. Never mind.

Published with the permission of the author.
Reproduction without the author's permission prohibited.