Saturday, February 04, 2006

Another One Bites the Dust

A few weeks ago I received a letter from the past. It was from the old crew from Playstation, one of the big two New York poker clubs along with NYPC that had been in the first wave of raids last May. It seems they had gotten their shit together and decided to give it another go. I was at first dubious, thinking that if they mailed me, they must have mailed a few thousand others, at least one of whom had to be one of New York's finest (or at least a member of the fucking vice squad).

I decided to sit out for awhile and not drop by since I had another club that I liked quite a lot and I was not convinced the new club (“Doubletake”) was a likely proposition for long term survival. Then, because of an altercation that was reported to the police, a pretty low profile club east village club, the Loft, was shut down and my club did its thing, which was climbing back in its shell like a turtle. Closed for "renovations" again. As you will see, their strategy is starting to make them seem like Dan Harrington in a table full of push monkeys.

So I called another club I'd heard about very close to my work but had never bothered dropping in at though I received their number and I knew from Kid Dynamite that it was a pretty decent place. They told me they were not taking new members.

So desperate degenerate that I am, particularly given my recent live versus online play discussed in my last post, I reviewed the situation and decided to give it a go. The pros to the cons above: a) they were definitely going to have players, likely able to spread games from early afternoon, b) they were extremely convenient to my work and my home commute, and c) I was already a member. So I went last Friday--the play and faces were just like they were at Playstation, with a 30+10 Rebuy push monkey tourney (quick bad beat story: 30 minutes after the rebuy period ended and I had an average stack, 100-200 blinds with me holding 1250 and having played 2 hands in two orbits, I get Hilton Sisters in the small blind and raise the one middle position limper to 500. Big blind lemur, with 2000 behind, calls and limper folds. Flop is two hearts T52. I push and get called. By A8 diamonds. Turn ace. Nice hand sir.)

Anyhoo, the cash games were great! Filled to the gills, at least two table with a waiting list for 1-2, I won Friday (net of my tourney) and Monday nights. I thought this either had to be too good to be true or they must have come to an arrangement with the boys in blue. Plus, the floor mentioned that the mailing list had been scrubbed by some deep research firm in Costa Rica to confirm identities before it was sent out. Maybe this would work after all.

So Wednesday evening I was back for another quick session after Mrs. Soxlover informed me she was attending a reception. I played pretty tight, with 2 or 3 maniacs, 2 or 3 solids and 2 or 3 tight weakies at the table, a formulation I like quite a bit once I can put the people on their type. I got caught with my hand in the cookie jar when one of the tighties flopped a boat on me, but didn't lose too much. I manage to with with queens once, the trick is flopping quads, though I only got a bit out of that. The whole night's profit was really from one hand where 5 limpers to me in the big blind, I had T7 suited and saw a 277 rainbow flop. I opened for 20 and had the cuttoff, a new player who looked pretty frazzled and whose 250 I had covered, raise me to 50. I thought about it and figured if he had limped with A7 or ducks, I was screwed but more likely he had a connected 7. I said "ah fuck it" and pushed (my second highest EV move of the night). When he hemmed and hawed, I knew I was goot, confirmed when he called and flipped over 78 offsuit. My hand held up.

It was about 9:30 when I made my highest EV move. I thought about playing one more push but I was getting a little tired and felt right booking a decent win. So I racked up and cashed out with exactly 620 (bought in for 400) and went home.

Fast forward to yesterday when I'm working through some back and forth comments in a new poker blog by Dawn Summers and her friend. In the chit chat, someone mentions that (the name for the new Playstation) was taken down the night before--or at least that's how I read it. Shit.

I called FTrain to commiserate as to the fate of New York club poker and in particular a few dealers we knew that most likely got caught up in the shit, the biggest victims in this--players just lose chips and the management is pretty deeply rolled, these guys risk criminal records and lose work.(I do also feel bad however about the legal aid attorney on my right who supplements her abysmal non-profit paid salary with psychic income and poker winnings—I hope but doubt she got out of there in time.)

Then FTrain clues me in--it wasn't Thursday they got busted, but Wednesday. The night I left, walking out after the 9:30 push at about 9:45. When? Sometime around 10:00 according to the 2+2 post.

So I missed a) getting 620 worth of "gambling paraphernalia" a/k/a my fucking chips seized and b) getting held up for 2 hours as they ran us through for warrants. Granted, this would not have been the end of the world, but it was a pretty good dodge nonetheless.

The woe that is New York poker.


At Sun Feb 05, 05:39:00 PM 2006, Anonymous jprfrog said...

Wouldn't the psychic have known enough to get out in time? And who wants to play poker with a psychic anyhow?

At Wed Feb 08, 04:24:00 PM 2006, Blogger TripJax said...

damn that is crazy...

At Wed Feb 08, 06:51:00 PM 2006, Blogger Kid Dynamite said...

wow. nice escape. I'm so fuckin' bummed about the poker scene... JUST when it looked like it was going to be on fire again: one step up and two steps back.



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