Tuesday, October 27, 2009


Just getting to the river had been a painful and arduous journey. The trip had taken well over two hours. The roads had been hazardous as the rainy season is in full swing. The pitfalls along the way were many as the slippery, muddy road had been washed out a couple of times and our Jeep, our lifeline to a return trip home, had very nearly crashed more than once.

At one point I was sure we were going broke as I pressed the accelerator in an attempt to roar across a small ravine. But, it was really only a ditch with some fast moving water, and not the trip ending torrent I believed. Another occasion, about a half an hour ago, a tree fell across the road in front of us. It was no problem though thanks to some thinking ahead by yours truly. I had brought a saw for just such a quandary.

Finally we had arrived at the river. The water was flooding the banks, and the bridge we had to use looked less than desirable. It was nothing but two large ropes tied between two very large trees as it stretched from bank to bank. Wooden planks held the two ropes together and were designed to be our roadway. The task appeared daunting and I was unsure of our success. The water was the color of light brown dirt and it appeared as though the river would swallow the bridge in very short manner. A decision needed to be made.

To fold now and try to turn back appeared to be senseless. We had already spent way too much time and effort in the trip just getting to this point. We must cross here, and we must cross now. I rated our chances at about 50-50. This was going to be risky.

As we started across it became rather obvious that 50-50 was rather optimistic. We were barely a third of the way over the bridge when the left hand rope snapped and the bridge tipped violently to the driver side of the Jeep. Our truck rolled off one side and started to float along with the current. We were moving rather quickly downstream, and as we came around the bend I could see the water just disappear in front of us. There was a waterfall, and our truck was going over it.

Our only hope was to jump into the river and swim for the trees lining the banks. It did not look good as the water rushed around me. I was the last one out of the truck and I watched as my entire party, one by one, went over the falls in front of me. I swam for the edge harder and harder as I listened to the screams of my friends as they went over the edge. Their screams began as they crested the falls and the sound slowly died away as they fell father and farther.

I swam harder.

It was no use. I was going over the edge. As I reached the top of the falls I could see to the bottom. It was at least 100 feet tall, this mighty falls created by nature millions of years ago. I quickly realized why my friends were screaming as they went. I could see the rocks below, and I could even make out a couple of the crumpled bodies of my party motionless on the jagged rocks below.

As I fell, as the end approached, there was peace. It would be over, the struggle complete. It was not the end I had envisioned, bu it was an end still the same. After that, blackness....

Codsey out.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009


I wanted to give a quick update of my trip to Daytona Beach, Fl. to partake in their poker room. The last time I had been at this poker room was a number of years ago before poker was legal in Florida. Well, it wasn't completely illegal otherwise it would have been difficult to operate a public card room for very long. The legal betting limits in Florida at that time, circa 1998, was 50 cents max bet. Yes, you heard me. We played 25 cent-50 cent Texas Holdem. Talk about hard to beat the rake!!! But, that is another story for another time. My recent trip to Daytona was interesting if not all that profitable.

They do things a little bit differently, but it's the same game. The ownership in Daytona is a bit more player friendly. They have a comp system in place, although at this time it is really ineffectual because it pays like 20 cents per hour. However, it will not be ineffectual forever.

This group is planning ahead because the slow down in Florida Poker has already begun. I'm not sure if the recession is the main cause, or just the normal phenomenon of poker players believing they are better players than they actually are, but there are definitely fewer people in the rooms of late.

Having a comp system already in place in rooms like Daytona is a jumping off point for the card rooms. The competition between rooms will only heat up from here. The regular player, aka yours truly, is going to begin to have some options on his services.

Make no bones about it. Someone like myself certainly provides a service to the rooms. I am there on a near daily basis. I am polite and congenial, for the most part, to all other players.

Wait a minute you may say. Isn't that to be expected? I would say yes, but unfortunately when the human, um, "spirit" let's call it, is involved when cold, hard, cash is taken from right in front of it, then emotions tend to run hot.

It has taken me literally YEARS, and THOUSANDS of hours of play, to finally learn to control my emotions. Sometime last year it hit me that people take varying actions during the play of a hand or session for a variety of reasons. ALL of those reasons are perfectly logical to each individual. It doesn't matter if it is flawed logic. To be so angered or upset by the outcome of another's "logical" actions is absurd. I'm glad it finally "clicked" for me. It has not clicked with all of the regulars, but most get it. Most got it before me. It's so clear now.

Anyway, I DIGRESS.

As poker rooms battle for a diminishing player base the most coveted players will be the regulars. I have often said I would go anywhere to play if I received gas money and comped food and drink throughout my play. At some point I hope I am offered the opportunity to "shill" at a poker establishment. I'll talk about that later as well.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, Daytona. So they have a comp system, sort of. And they have "Senior" dealers. These dealers have been around and are very competent. They are professional. They make few mistakes. These dealers deal the higher limit games. The newer dealers deal in the lower limit games. Makes sense to me. Daytona's waitresses were over worked. It was crowded due to the Bad Beat promotion that everyone was trying to hit, and they could have used some help.

Daytona's poker room also allows you to "chop" the blinds. Chopping the blinds is when everyone else has folded and the only players left are the small and big blind. To "chop" refers to the two of them taking their money back and moving directly to the next hand. It saves time, and keeps the game fun and light. Jax poker rooms do not allow chopping of the blinds and when I originally asked about it many months ago they told me it was against state law. You can imagine my surprise when I saw it being done in Daytona. I'm pretty sure Daytona is still part of Florida, at least during the 51 weeks that are not "Bike Week".

Th Daytona poker room is on the leading edge of what all poker rooms, or at least the one's who wish to remain in business, will eventually be doing. They are making their room, and the games they spread, more player friendly. The room in Daytona does not make you post when you first enter a game. You can just sit down, with your chips, and take a free hand. It's PLAYER FRIENDLY.

As the player pool continues to decrease the regular player will begin to receive comps and opportunity to save a little bit of money. This is all well and good and it is capitalism at its' finest. Unfortunately, these benefits can only mean one thing. The games are going to toughen up.

As the player pool decreases in number, so do the number of fish, or poor poker players. What will happen? Well, like in anything, the strong will survive and the weak will go broke and find another form of entertainment.

I cannot wait to find out which group I'm going to fall. Seriously, it's rather exciting. Of course, I've been hanging on the precipice for while now. The fall won't be that far. Maybe finding a low paying hourly job at first. Eventually moving back into the corporate world. Maybe even sitting in a cubicle all day answering phones and trying to sell people something. Just a sec while I very gently tap on the tip of my penis with this hammer. Cause I'd rather do that than sit in another cubicle.

It is exciting though. And you, the lonely reader, will have a front-row seat to witness either magnificent triumph or a return to the mundane. A return to the mundane. Jesus H Christ.

Please, no return to the mundane.

I'm out. I need to go read a poker book, or something.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009


I finally have the urge to think about and actually put to paper what has been going on in my little corner of the world. It's been a number of days since I have "checked in" and I can't stand the isolationism.

I was originally going to play golf this morning. My friend, who is a dealer at the local card room, could not make it for some reason that he tried to convey to me last night. He was rambling on and I felt like his reason for not golfing was made up. He actually said he had to open at the poker room and he hasn't worked a day shift in I don't know how long, but a long time. It's cool though. I'm sure whatever he was doing was more important than our golf game. That is sick.

I've heard the bad-beat jackpot is capped out at 175k at the Daytona poker room. I am taking a trip there today with another poker dealer from the poker room. I should have played golf with this guy. The golf again... have you ever looked forward to something and then just not been able to make it happen? I thought so. Back to the bad-beat jackpot.

The bad-beat jackpot is derived from a dollar, which is taken from the pot, of every hand played in any cash game at the poker room. I'm going to explain how they do it in the rooms I am accustomed to, but I know rules vary from place to place. This dollar is split into four pieces of a pie.

One piece of the pie, consisting of 50 cents, goes to the main bad-beat. 25% goes to the back-up bad beat pool, 15% to the second backup bad-beat pool, and 10% to the "promotions" pool. Now keep in mind, and a lot of people DO NOT understand this, this is OUR money.

The bad-beat jackpot is not something the poker room GIVES us. They only run the game for US. Our agreement with them is that they can use the 10% promotional part of the dollar taken to run other, daily or hourly, luck games in an attempt to attract more customers.

How do I feel about this? I'm not sure. I mean, I am just fine with attracting more people to play poker in the poker rooms. That should go without saying. But personally, I wish there was no bad beat jackpot, and I wish any promotions were paid for by the room itself. It's their business, and I'm not sure why we, the players, need to pay for it.

But, I am in a small minority when it comes to the bad-beat jackpot. The reason being that the prize for winning the bad beat jackpot can sometimes be over 100k. That is one heck of a payday, no matter how unlikely it is to happen. It does happen though, and everyone at the table, who was dealt into the hand, get's a piece of the bad-beat jackpot.

The jackpot is hit when Aces full of jacks get beaten by at least quads, or better. Both hole cards in both hands must play. The loser of the hand (the one getting the bad beat) wins 50% of the bad-beat jackpot. The winner of the hand gets 25%, and the other people at the table split the remaining 25%. It is a pure gamble, requiring no skill, except for maybe the ability to never lay down a hand. But, when it hits, similarly to when Yo-eleven! hits in craps, the place erupts in joy.

I have been in the room more than once when the bad-beat has been hit, but I have yet to be AT the table. I'm certain I probably will eventually, but not necessarily. Maybe I'll win it... maybe. We are driving to Daytona because the bad-beat is getting up there, and also it will be a change of scenery. Plus, the dealers at the room in Jax are not allowed to play in the games where they work.

I hate this rule. I have never been in better poker games than games which are full of poker dealers. These guys gamble. They do it because to sit tight and be nitty with their chips would be very bad for business. They work for tips. I always tip more after I have spanked the dealer in a few hands.

Of course, I'm sure some people would not be able to handle getting beaten by a dealer in a poker hand. People take poker seriously sometimes. I used to become very emotional. These days though I just snap my rubber band, put on my sunglasses, and try very hard to remember To Prevail Takes Apathy. It is a definite struggle, certainly. Some cannot handle it.

Just yesterday an older man, who is normally very quiet, went a bit nutso. We were playing in a tournament, and he was seated next to me, on the right. He is normally quiet and thoughtful, and usually makes good poker decisions. He called the pre-flop raise, and called the bet on the flop. When the turn card hit he check-raised a big amount. His opponent called the big raise. The river card paired the board and both players opted to check. The older man turned over 9-3, and there was a nine and a three on the board. His opponent turned over Q-10. There was a ten and two sevens on the board. The tens and sevens beat the older man's hand.

The older man threw down his cards and said "You've got to be fuckin kidding me". But, not really loud. I laughed out loud. Literally. I was laughing because that hand is not uncommon. It's called a counterfeit. The older man had two pair, and was ahead when he made the big raise, but the other guy played poorly and got lucky. The dealer looked up at him, sort of shrugged, and raised his hands as if to say "what am I supposed to do"?

The older man said "Do what you need to do, just do it!"

The dealer yelled "Floor, I'm sorry, sir. F-bomb on table nine!"

The dealer actually apologized, which I thought was nice. The one standing rule is No F-Bombs. It is ridiculous because I could say FOCK you and would not get a penalty. I could also say pussy, cunt, asshole, cock, dipshit, cum licker, and gosh darnit and I would NOT get a penalty.

The old man got up, said nothing, and left for his one round (about 15 minute) penalty. It's not a big deal, and no one was offended. We were all men at the table, including the dealer, and we've all heard it before. I guess the old man was off his game, and maybe knew it.

He never came back.

He lasted longer in the tournament than I did because his chips just sat there. The dealer took out for his blinds and antes, but he never played another hand. I played like a donkey cum licker and made zero dollars. I guess he'd had enough of poker for that day. He should wear a rubber band.

I got a bit upset at the table yesterday during a cash game. There was a woman who had just sat down. I have played with her in the past and she liked to play a lot of hands. She is not a good player, and it was a guarantee, barring her getting very lucky, that she was going to lose a few hundred. I may not get any of it, but at least one can hope.

She started right off by calling off all of her chips with a K-4 offsuit on a board that read A-Q-Q-10-5. Not good for her, I'd say. But, and here is why I was angry, no one should have EVER known what she had played and lost with.

The winner of the hand had shown his hand, and the woman had tried to muck her hand without showing. No big deal, I do it all of the time. This Clown next to her, who had been in the hand on the earlier streets, but had folded BEFORE the river, asked to see her cards. The woman says no because he was not in the hand at the end. The Clown says he was in the hand at the beginning so he has a RIGHT. The dealer agrees and shows the woman's K-4 offsuit. The woman gets NOTICEABLY embarrassed and stands up and leaves the table.

Did that just happen? That was all I could ask myself for a couple of minutes. Finally I couldn't stand it any longer and I let the Clown have it. What he did was not cool, and it was not classy. He wants to be known as a good poker player and one way, in his mind, of how to do that is to embarrass another player. He knew she had crap, and he wanted to make her show just how bad of a player she is. Nice job, jackass.

I left the game shortly after that hand. It wasn't because her money had gone elsewhere. There was still plenty of chips on the table and the clown had some too. It was just time to go, and it was better to leave after spouting my views on his dumb ass move. Maybe it sunk in.

Anyway, I'll let you know what my share was of the bad-beat was that I'm going to hit today in Daytona. Is it considered incorrect Englsih, in writing circles, to have past, present, and future tense all in the same sentence?

I don't care.

Codsey out.