Sunday was this year's Las Vegas Rock N' Roll Marathon. What a great experience it was.
Unlike last year when I ran the full marathon, I opted for the 1/2 this time around, which was a wise decision. I originally intended to run the full again, but due to time constraints, I simply wasn't able to commit to the training necessary for a 26.2 mile run. I came in 10 minutes under my goal time for the half, so I was thrilled with my results.
The race itself was just fantastic. There were some significant changes to the structure of the event, most of which I believe were for the better.
The start time was pushed forward from 6 am to 7 am. Marathon-length races start early because they last so long, which causes a number of issues to arise. One is temperature. Another is the practical issue of keeping roads closed, and Las Vegas Blvd is a big one to keep closed.
Still, I think it was a wise decision to start the race later. Last year's race happened to fall on a record cold day, but even at normal December temperatures, that extra hour makes a huge difference to the runners. I applaud the city of Las Vegas for allowing the strip to stay closed to vehicle traffic later into the day. It's better for the race, and ultimately I'd argue better for the city as well.
Other than the time, the course was modified as well. The full marathoners were given more running on the strip itself. Last year, the full marathon branched off around 10.5 miles. This time it was around 12.5 miles. There's two sides to that. Travelers were probably disappointed last year to veer off so much further north.
At the same time, sticking together with the halfers can be a little disheartening. The half marathoners were kicking it up for their home stretch, while the fullers were only halfway there.
We actually ran on Fremont St this year, though very conspicuously not down the Fremont Street Experience. Instead we ran the block east of it, right up to the giant pint, then turned back down Las Vegas Blvd.
I'm not quite sure why the race wouldn't go through Fremont St proper. It's already closed to vehicles and would be killer exposure for the downtown casinos. Having that many people, many of whom are tourists who don't even know about downtown, run through the area would be advertising you can't buy. It's even set up already for concerts.
I've heard some people say it's the uneven footing down there, but that doesn't quite do it for me. Maybe next year we'll actually run through it.
For those who don't know, the race also hosts a group wedding. I believe there were about 50 couples who took part this year. They run a couple miles in, have a 3 minute ceremony, then either complete the race or peace out. Amy pointed out, and I concurred, that there seemed to be far more brides running than grooms. Maybe the brides were just more obvious (most wore white running outfits with a mini-veil), maybe the couples ran at their own paces, maybe the dudes were just lazy bums who couldn't make it the full distance. Not sure.
I was fortunate through the timing of my corral's start and my pace to run by in that 3 minute window during the ceremony. It was quite exciting.
I just love big races like this, where you get so many people coming together with a common purpose. Maybe it hit me harder after the recent and bitter round of elections. After so much Angle/Reid back and forth, having 25,000 people come out just because they wanted to run together was refreshing. I'm not sure what the message in all that is, but I think there is one in there somewhere.
The mutual support is just astounding. When the marathon frontrunners came passing by going the other way, everybody around me cheered them on.
Around mile 4 or 5, a woman in front of me tried tossing a used Gu packet into the trash, but missed. Now, a brief aside: marathon courses are littered with cups, athletic supplement packaging, plastic bags, discarded outer layers of clothing, and so on. It is standard practice when you're done with something to just throw it away. As long as one doesn't do so on the race course itself, that is totally acceptable behavior, and the race organizers ensure the course is cleaned up afterward.
This woman though, she held onto her trash long enough to find a garbage can, which is on its own going above and beyond what is expected of her. When she saw that she'd missed, she actually turned around and went backwards so she could pick it up and discard it properly. Afterward I held onto my own litter as well. That's another situation where, though I can't quite put my finger on it, I'm confident there's some kind of message.
The support from the crowd was awesome as well. Many onlookers came up with signs that would have done a derby-bout proud. A few that stick out in my mind are "Your feet hurt because of all the ass you're kicking," "You have great stamina, call me," and "Run like Tiger's wife is chasing you."
There's a lot of weirdness that goes on when you get so many people together, too. In the corral waiting to start, I overheard a woman nearby sharing her pre-race rituals. She said that for the week before the race, she wears her race outfit for her training runs. That makes enough sense, I suppose. She wants to get used to that particular outfit and work out any kinks it might have.
What was weird, though, was what she said next. It went along the lines of, "I don't wash it for that week, either. I don't need to, it doesn't get dirty. I just let it air dry."
Frankly that seems pretty gross to me, but if it helps her get through the race, then hell, more power to her.
The ending of the race was pretty rad also. The Rock N' Roll crew knows how to take care of its runners. Most noteworthy was the amount of bananas. It was truly beyond words. There were maybe a dozen tables piled several feet high with bananas, and more bananas stored underneath and behind. There must have been 40,000 bananas.
They also had bottled water, Cytomax energy drinks (which, please please please, replace next year with Gatorade or Powerade!), bagels, Gogurt, Snickers Marathon Bars (mmm, mmm, mmm, delicioso), and foil to wrap up in. All the freebies made it a veritable hoarder's wet dream.
Plus, Zappos, the main sponsor of the race, was distributing free copies of their CEO's recently published book. Very cool.
I'm looking forward to a little recovery period before I get running again. This time around I'll be training with a running partner, my dog Hoss. Right now he gets pretty winded after 2 mile runs, but I'm thinking 7 dog years should be plenty to get my buddy into shape for a 1/2 marathon. Oh, we're thinking about dressing him in a dog Elvis costume too.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Companies That I Love But Which Have Pissed Me Off: Chili’s
Today in this column we visit Chili’s. I love Chili’s. Their buffalo chicken fajitas, mmm, so good. Nice selection of margaritas. And their burgers aren’t quite Red Robin level, but they’re pretty close, and that’s saying something.
They have pissed me off, though, by intentionally misleading their customers. During happy hour, they offer 2 for 1 Budweiser and Bud Light. I only rarely say no to a BOGO offer, or, for that matter, to a beer, so of course I’ve taken them up on this happy hour offer before.
Here’s the trick: their 2 for 1 mugs are half the volume of their normal mugs!
How did I not notice it sooner, I find myself asking. I compared their non-happy hour mug with a happy hour one, and they’re crafty. The happy hour mug is designed to appear larger than it is, with thick walls and base. You can clearly see the difference when putting them side by side, but who would ever do that?
Chili’s, you and Subway have let me down. You’ve betrayed my trust and loyalty. It will be a long, hard battle to win it back.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
Crazy Dream I Had Last Night
I had a dream last night that my dog Hoss was actually a robot dog from another planet and that his battery was running out. He was dying. He had a fully developed human-like personality and could talk.
He had also been married to an Earth dog, but his husband dog had died years earlier. Hoss had a substantially longer lifespan than Earth dogs in the dream due to his being a robot. Oh, it was a gay marriage.
Before his husband died though, despite the fact that they were both male and one of them was a robot, they'd had a daughter, who seemed to be a girl Earth dog. She too had a human-like personality, and was herself married to a one foot tall Pakistani human man.
In her husband's culture, one's husband is to be one's spirit guide when one dies. Because Hoss's husband had already died, he was able, according to his beliefs, to serve as Hoss's spirit guide. When the time came and Hoss's battery was entirely depleted, his son-in-law lead him to a higher plane of existence.
He had also been married to an Earth dog, but his husband dog had died years earlier. Hoss had a substantially longer lifespan than Earth dogs in the dream due to his being a robot. Oh, it was a gay marriage.
Before his husband died though, despite the fact that they were both male and one of them was a robot, they'd had a daughter, who seemed to be a girl Earth dog. She too had a human-like personality, and was herself married to a one foot tall Pakistani human man.
In her husband's culture, one's husband is to be one's spirit guide when one dies. Because Hoss's husband had already died, he was able, according to his beliefs, to serve as Hoss's spirit guide. When the time came and Hoss's battery was entirely depleted, his son-in-law lead him to a higher plane of existence.
Friday, August 20, 2010
Beer of the Week: Dos Equis!
Last time I mentioned I couldn't put Baltika #8 in the running for "Harrison's favorite beer" because there were a couple others I just love so much. Dos Equis is one of those beers. In fact, it's probably my overall favorite.
I'm talking Dos Equis Lager, not Amber. The Amber is good also. Really I'm a fan of all cerveza style beers, but this one is my fav.
Here is something interesting about this beer: I almost always prefer my beer on tap over bottled. I just think it tastes better that way. I don't know why this is. I do know that the recipes for sodas are slightly different for canned and fountain versions, so perhaps something like that is going on here as well. At any rate, Dos Equis is the ONE exception to that rule. I like it draft just fine, but I absolutely love it bottled.
Not too far back I discovered the Michelada style of drinking beer. It's a rich variety of methods in which a beer can be mixed with other ingredients to form a kind of beer cocktail. The most basic method, also sometimes called chelada style, is combining beer and lime juice in a salt rimmed glass.
I love salt and lime juice, so that is an obvious hit with me.
Michelada recipes can contain almost anything though, varying widely by region in Mexico. The concept is not entirely dissimilar to how people experiment and share their own take on the bloody mary. Some Micheladas even contain tomato juice, worcestershire, and hot sauce, making the similarity to a bloody mary more than just conceptual.
Clamato is a popular mix with beer for Micheladas as well. Budweiser sells pre-prepared Bud or Bud Light with Clamato. I've yet to try that.
At any rate, I've done up pretty much every beer I drink chelada style at least once. That includes a couple kinds of Sam Adams. My advice: don't repeat my mistake there. The beer I find works best is Dos Equis.
A personal tip: lemon juice works really well too in my opinion, and is often much cheaper than lime juice.
I learned an interesting history lesson on the side of a beer variety pack I picked up relatively recently at Costco. Dos Equis has been produced since the early 1900s, and was invented by a German immigrant to Mexico who combined the traditions of his homeland with local Mexican ones to create this amazing beer. Originally it was called "Siglo XX," with the two Xs representing the 20th century. So many people took a liking to the beer and just asked for "the one with the two Xs on it" that the company eventually just up and changed the name to "two Xs" which is, in Spanish, "Dos Equis."
Another interesting note about this beer: try as I might, I cannot get my mother to stop pronouncing it "Dos Ekwees" instead of "Dos Ekkies." My use of phonetic alphabet is, admittedly, made up.
Here's to you, Dos Equis. With ice and lime in a salt-rimmed glass or straight out of the bottle, you're an amazing drink, and this week belongs to you.
Cheers.
I'm talking Dos Equis Lager, not Amber. The Amber is good also. Really I'm a fan of all cerveza style beers, but this one is my fav.
Here is something interesting about this beer: I almost always prefer my beer on tap over bottled. I just think it tastes better that way. I don't know why this is. I do know that the recipes for sodas are slightly different for canned and fountain versions, so perhaps something like that is going on here as well. At any rate, Dos Equis is the ONE exception to that rule. I like it draft just fine, but I absolutely love it bottled.
Not too far back I discovered the Michelada style of drinking beer. It's a rich variety of methods in which a beer can be mixed with other ingredients to form a kind of beer cocktail. The most basic method, also sometimes called chelada style, is combining beer and lime juice in a salt rimmed glass.
I love salt and lime juice, so that is an obvious hit with me.
Michelada recipes can contain almost anything though, varying widely by region in Mexico. The concept is not entirely dissimilar to how people experiment and share their own take on the bloody mary. Some Micheladas even contain tomato juice, worcestershire, and hot sauce, making the similarity to a bloody mary more than just conceptual.
Clamato is a popular mix with beer for Micheladas as well. Budweiser sells pre-prepared Bud or Bud Light with Clamato. I've yet to try that.
At any rate, I've done up pretty much every beer I drink chelada style at least once. That includes a couple kinds of Sam Adams. My advice: don't repeat my mistake there. The beer I find works best is Dos Equis.
A personal tip: lemon juice works really well too in my opinion, and is often much cheaper than lime juice.
I learned an interesting history lesson on the side of a beer variety pack I picked up relatively recently at Costco. Dos Equis has been produced since the early 1900s, and was invented by a German immigrant to Mexico who combined the traditions of his homeland with local Mexican ones to create this amazing beer. Originally it was called "Siglo XX," with the two Xs representing the 20th century. So many people took a liking to the beer and just asked for "the one with the two Xs on it" that the company eventually just up and changed the name to "two Xs" which is, in Spanish, "Dos Equis."
Another interesting note about this beer: try as I might, I cannot get my mother to stop pronouncing it "Dos Ekwees" instead of "Dos Ekkies." My use of phonetic alphabet is, admittedly, made up.
Here's to you, Dos Equis. With ice and lime in a salt-rimmed glass or straight out of the bottle, you're an amazing drink, and this week belongs to you.
Cheers.
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Beer of the Week #1: Baltika #8!
I like beer. A lot. Love it even. I go for pretty much all beers. Not so much IPAs on the loving, but I still like them. I know a decent amount about beer, but admittedly not nearly as much as many beer aficionados. So while not exactly a beer connoisseur, I have a great appreciation for it both as a drink and part of our culture.
Anyway, I think this amazing and diverse beverage deserves some formal recognition. To that end, I’ll attempt regular blog posts about beers I think are special for some reason or other. Let’s start out weekly and see where that goes.
Without further ado…
Harrison’s first ever Beer of the Week is: Baltika #8, Wheat Ale!
I only discovered Baltika a few weeks ago; prior to that I’d never heard of it. I dropped off my filthy car for a wash, and had about half an hour to kill, so I decided to take a stroll through the Lee’s Discount Liquor next door. Meandering up and down the aisles, I found my way to the beer section, much as I’d be drawn to the Scifi area of a Borders.
A few rows of beer in funny bottles caught my eye. Immediately I recognized them as something different. Firstly, they were pint sized (which really shouldn’t colloquially mean “small”) bottles with tapered midsections. Secondly, the bottles were numbered 2, 3, and 8 (I assumed varieties 1 and 4-7 were just the less popular ones). Thirdly, their labels were in Russian with English translations.
Near as I’ve been able to tell, Baltika is the brand name, much like Budweiser or Miller, and the eight different beers Baltika makes are numbered, with #8 being their Wheat Ale. I love the system. It’s how I’d probably have named my beers if I owned a brewery.
On a whim, I picked up a #8. I’m a big fan of wheat beers, and figured I’d probably enjoy it. I was right.
I’m not one to get all weak in the knees over “authentic” food and drink. Mostly I just want it to taste good, not be unnecessarily awful for me, and be reasonably priced. I also don’t like being lied to, though (I’m looking at you, Subway), so I was pleased to discover that Baltika’s not some Midwestern America beer with a funny label. It really is brewed and packaged in Russia.
I did a little research and talked to a friend of mine who lived there for a while. When I mentioned the name, he immediately recognized it, and said it was the most popular beer in Moscow. I think that's at least a little bit cool.
I’ve never really thought of Russia as a premier beer location. I think of Germany and Mexico right off the bat. America has produced some awesome brews, like Yuengling and Sam Adams. Even east Asia has some awesome beers. I now add Russia to the list of quality beer producing nations. Since that first one, I’ve tried all eight varieties of Baltika (Khoury’s Fine Wine carries the whole line, as does a larger Lee’s Liquor I’ve gone to since that first #8). The Wheat Ale is far and away my favorite, though all of them are pretty good.
I won’t go too much into taste. I will say it has mild-moderate hoppiness and a smooth finish. I might describe the texture as almost silky. It’s more like a German hefeweizen than Belgian witbiers, which makes sense given that it’s called an ale on its label. So far as I can tell, there’s no orange peel or coriander or anything like that going on here (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I love me a Blue Moon now and again (perhaps ironically), but that’s not what this is.
It still has a light, crisp taste to it, making it a great spring or summer beer.
Plus, the price is not bad at all. At $1.99/pint, it’s actually pretty reasonable. Figure a 12-pack of Corona usually goes for about $22-24, which is roughly $2/12 oz bottle. Paying $2 for a 16 oz bottle which was shipped from much further away isn’t hard to swallow by comparison.
“But why choose Baltika as your first beer of the week?” you might ask, and I might answer:
I’ll assume most people have been missing out on this beer all their lives like I had been. It deserves some recognition. Also, I thought it would be fitting to drink my beer of the week while I wrote the entry on my beer of the week, and I was in the mood for a Baltika, so that chestnut played into the decision as well. In case you are wondering, it’s delicious, and was a good choice.
I definitely rank Baltika #8 among my favorite beers. I don’t think I can say it’s a strong contender for absolute favorite; I have too many beloved beers, and at least one or two which are more obvious frontrunners for that competitive title. It’s definitely got a place in my top ten though, and that’s a damn impressive accomplishment.
Anyway, I think this amazing and diverse beverage deserves some formal recognition. To that end, I’ll attempt regular blog posts about beers I think are special for some reason or other. Let’s start out weekly and see where that goes.
Without further ado…
Harrison’s first ever Beer of the Week is: Baltika #8, Wheat Ale!
I only discovered Baltika a few weeks ago; prior to that I’d never heard of it. I dropped off my filthy car for a wash, and had about half an hour to kill, so I decided to take a stroll through the Lee’s Discount Liquor next door. Meandering up and down the aisles, I found my way to the beer section, much as I’d be drawn to the Scifi area of a Borders.
A few rows of beer in funny bottles caught my eye. Immediately I recognized them as something different. Firstly, they were pint sized (which really shouldn’t colloquially mean “small”) bottles with tapered midsections. Secondly, the bottles were numbered 2, 3, and 8 (I assumed varieties 1 and 4-7 were just the less popular ones). Thirdly, their labels were in Russian with English translations.
Near as I’ve been able to tell, Baltika is the brand name, much like Budweiser or Miller, and the eight different beers Baltika makes are numbered, with #8 being their Wheat Ale. I love the system. It’s how I’d probably have named my beers if I owned a brewery.
On a whim, I picked up a #8. I’m a big fan of wheat beers, and figured I’d probably enjoy it. I was right.
I’m not one to get all weak in the knees over “authentic” food and drink. Mostly I just want it to taste good, not be unnecessarily awful for me, and be reasonably priced. I also don’t like being lied to, though (I’m looking at you, Subway), so I was pleased to discover that Baltika’s not some Midwestern America beer with a funny label. It really is brewed and packaged in Russia.
I did a little research and talked to a friend of mine who lived there for a while. When I mentioned the name, he immediately recognized it, and said it was the most popular beer in Moscow. I think that's at least a little bit cool.
I’ve never really thought of Russia as a premier beer location. I think of Germany and Mexico right off the bat. America has produced some awesome brews, like Yuengling and Sam Adams. Even east Asia has some awesome beers. I now add Russia to the list of quality beer producing nations. Since that first one, I’ve tried all eight varieties of Baltika (Khoury’s Fine Wine carries the whole line, as does a larger Lee’s Liquor I’ve gone to since that first #8). The Wheat Ale is far and away my favorite, though all of them are pretty good.
I won’t go too much into taste. I will say it has mild-moderate hoppiness and a smooth finish. I might describe the texture as almost silky. It’s more like a German hefeweizen than Belgian witbiers, which makes sense given that it’s called an ale on its label. So far as I can tell, there’s no orange peel or coriander or anything like that going on here (not that there’s anything wrong with that). I love me a Blue Moon now and again (perhaps ironically), but that’s not what this is.
It still has a light, crisp taste to it, making it a great spring or summer beer.
Plus, the price is not bad at all. At $1.99/pint, it’s actually pretty reasonable. Figure a 12-pack of Corona usually goes for about $22-24, which is roughly $2/12 oz bottle. Paying $2 for a 16 oz bottle which was shipped from much further away isn’t hard to swallow by comparison.
“But why choose Baltika as your first beer of the week?” you might ask, and I might answer:
I’ll assume most people have been missing out on this beer all their lives like I had been. It deserves some recognition. Also, I thought it would be fitting to drink my beer of the week while I wrote the entry on my beer of the week, and I was in the mood for a Baltika, so that chestnut played into the decision as well. In case you are wondering, it’s delicious, and was a good choice.
I definitely rank Baltika #8 among my favorite beers. I don’t think I can say it’s a strong contender for absolute favorite; I have too many beloved beers, and at least one or two which are more obvious frontrunners for that competitive title. It’s definitely got a place in my top ten though, and that’s a damn impressive accomplishment.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
How Subway Pissed Me Off
Prior to this incident, I was one of Subway’s most loyal customers. Really. For an entire semester in college I had a Subway sandwich for dinner every day. It wasn’t even a bet or anything; I just sincerely liked the sandwiches that much. They’re pretty delicious, reasonably priced, and with a little bit of care in what you order, healthy. And yet all that loyalty was smashed to bits with a single ill-conceived ad campaign.
I’m sure most readers will be familiar with Subway’s “Ultimate Turkey Bacon Avocado” sandwich they’ve been pushing recently. I’ve seen billboards, print ads, tv and radio commercials for it. The images show a sandwich overflowing with avocado, and the radio spots describe it as having “mounds of frothy avocado.” I’m sure on that, because I remember thinking I didn’t really want my avocado to be frothy.
The sandwich has the same damn tiny smear of avocado that you can get on any sandwich for a dollar. In fact, the whole sub is actually just their regular turkey footlong with bacon and avocado added. They don’t give you more of anything or charge you any less.
I felt deceived.
The fact that the sandwich is the same sandwich you could always get isn’t the biggest deal for me. I would expect a little more than you could always get, or maybe knock $.50 off the price, but either way, that’s not the major problem.
What really bothers me is how they portrayed the sandwich. There were no mounds of avocado. It wasn’t frothy, which frankly is fine by me, because what the hell would that even mean? Still though, don’t call it frothy if it’s not. Don’t call a thin smear “mounds.” Don’t call something “ultimate” when it’s been around forever, or available only “for a limited time” when it surely will continue to be an option indefinitely.
Also, the TV commercials imply that their avocado spread/guacamole is homemade. It’s not. It is okay with me that it’s not, but they should stop implying that it is. It comes out of a plastic container, quite possibly the same ones I buy at Costco.
I’ve overlooked a lot with Subway over the years, but this is the straw that broke the camel’s sandwich-bearing back. From now on I’m going to Capriotti’s. It’s a little further away and costs a little more, but the quality is unrivaled and, most importantly, they deliver what they promise.
Looking to the future, here’s what Subway could do to win me back. Kill the misleading ad campaign immediately, and bring back the v-cut. Remember how until about 10 years ago they would cut their bread down the middle, fill it up with yummy goodness, then put the bread back on top? I loved that, and they never gave a satisfactory reason for why they stopped cutting their bread that way. They claimed it was too hard to fit everything inside, but I don’t buy that. I usually get double meat and 6 or 7 toppings (depending upon whether I feel like onions), and that all fit no problem.
They could probably even win me back just be killing the misleading campaign, really. I did think it was good value for the money. I guess I just feel betrayed, like they lied to me.
I’m sure most readers will be familiar with Subway’s “Ultimate Turkey Bacon Avocado” sandwich they’ve been pushing recently. I’ve seen billboards, print ads, tv and radio commercials for it. The images show a sandwich overflowing with avocado, and the radio spots describe it as having “mounds of frothy avocado.” I’m sure on that, because I remember thinking I didn’t really want my avocado to be frothy.
The sandwich has the same damn tiny smear of avocado that you can get on any sandwich for a dollar. In fact, the whole sub is actually just their regular turkey footlong with bacon and avocado added. They don’t give you more of anything or charge you any less.
I felt deceived.
The fact that the sandwich is the same sandwich you could always get isn’t the biggest deal for me. I would expect a little more than you could always get, or maybe knock $.50 off the price, but either way, that’s not the major problem.
What really bothers me is how they portrayed the sandwich. There were no mounds of avocado. It wasn’t frothy, which frankly is fine by me, because what the hell would that even mean? Still though, don’t call it frothy if it’s not. Don’t call a thin smear “mounds.” Don’t call something “ultimate” when it’s been around forever, or available only “for a limited time” when it surely will continue to be an option indefinitely.
Also, the TV commercials imply that their avocado spread/guacamole is homemade. It’s not. It is okay with me that it’s not, but they should stop implying that it is. It comes out of a plastic container, quite possibly the same ones I buy at Costco.
I’ve overlooked a lot with Subway over the years, but this is the straw that broke the camel’s sandwich-bearing back. From now on I’m going to Capriotti’s. It’s a little further away and costs a little more, but the quality is unrivaled and, most importantly, they deliver what they promise.
Looking to the future, here’s what Subway could do to win me back. Kill the misleading ad campaign immediately, and bring back the v-cut. Remember how until about 10 years ago they would cut their bread down the middle, fill it up with yummy goodness, then put the bread back on top? I loved that, and they never gave a satisfactory reason for why they stopped cutting their bread that way. They claimed it was too hard to fit everything inside, but I don’t buy that. I usually get double meat and 6 or 7 toppings (depending upon whether I feel like onions), and that all fit no problem.
They could probably even win me back just be killing the misleading campaign, really. I did think it was good value for the money. I guess I just feel betrayed, like they lied to me.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
It Ain't Over...
I was playing some 1/2 recently at the Venetian and had a hand that really stuck with me. It was a fairly standard table, mostly tourists, only a couple players I was really watching to make strong plays. The woman to my right in the 2 seat was there with her husband in the 9 seat. They were both fairly pleasant people and pretty awful poker players. Nice people though.
At any rate, I was seeing a lot of trash hands, when finally I got dealt pocket kings. I was under the gun, bumped it up to $10, and got two callers, one of whom was the woman from above in the big blind.
Flop came down all low, pretty spread out, two spades. Woman checks, I bet $25, other guy folds, she calls. Turn puts a 2nd heart on the board. She checks, I bet $60, she calls. She has about $80 more behind, so my intention was to price her in.
At this point, I'm thinking that she maybe has two spades and is looking for the flush, maybe has a piece of it with a strong kicker (which I'm putting on an ace since I'm holding two kings), or maybe just a hand like AQ that she won't lay down. Terrible ways to play all those hands, but like I said, she wasn't the strongest poker player. Basically, I'm sitting there thinking "No ace, no spade, no ace, no spade, no ace, no spade."
Obviously the ace of spades falls on the river.
To complicate matters further, she goes into the tank. At first I'm thinking she's really considering her play, but then it goes so long that I start thinking she must be Hollywooding it. Then she goes so long that I decide she can't possibly be Hollywooding because nobody would believe such a drawn out act. (Incidentally, that's part of why I never call time on somebody. They reveal information by how long they think, so why stop them from doing so?)
Eventually she pushes all in, and despite my strong desire to call, I'm pretty sure I have to fold. Cowboys just aren't much of a hand on the river with an ace on the board, especially when any hand I'd put her on earlier would have beaten me.
I still have one play left to me though. It almost never works, but I decided to give it a shot. While analyzing her face for any reaction, I flip over my hand.
Turns out I didn't have to analyze too hard, because she pickes up her cards between her index and middle fingers and makes to toss them away. While with a craftier player it could have been a ruse, there was just about zero chance of that with her. The dealer stops her from actually mucking her cards as I hadn't called yet, but it didn't really matter; the damage was done for her. I called, and she mucked without showing.
A $360 pot is a pretty good sized one in a 1/2 game, and was huge at that table. It made the whole session for me, and ended hers.
When the ace of spades came down and she pushed, I figured I was pretty done for. She totally threw the pot by reacting to my prompt the way she did. If I hadn't realized, or she had, that the hand wasn't over yet, she'd have won.
At any rate, I was seeing a lot of trash hands, when finally I got dealt pocket kings. I was under the gun, bumped it up to $10, and got two callers, one of whom was the woman from above in the big blind.
Flop came down all low, pretty spread out, two spades. Woman checks, I bet $25, other guy folds, she calls. Turn puts a 2nd heart on the board. She checks, I bet $60, she calls. She has about $80 more behind, so my intention was to price her in.
At this point, I'm thinking that she maybe has two spades and is looking for the flush, maybe has a piece of it with a strong kicker (which I'm putting on an ace since I'm holding two kings), or maybe just a hand like AQ that she won't lay down. Terrible ways to play all those hands, but like I said, she wasn't the strongest poker player. Basically, I'm sitting there thinking "No ace, no spade, no ace, no spade, no ace, no spade."
Obviously the ace of spades falls on the river.
To complicate matters further, she goes into the tank. At first I'm thinking she's really considering her play, but then it goes so long that I start thinking she must be Hollywooding it. Then she goes so long that I decide she can't possibly be Hollywooding because nobody would believe such a drawn out act. (Incidentally, that's part of why I never call time on somebody. They reveal information by how long they think, so why stop them from doing so?)
Eventually she pushes all in, and despite my strong desire to call, I'm pretty sure I have to fold. Cowboys just aren't much of a hand on the river with an ace on the board, especially when any hand I'd put her on earlier would have beaten me.
I still have one play left to me though. It almost never works, but I decided to give it a shot. While analyzing her face for any reaction, I flip over my hand.
Turns out I didn't have to analyze too hard, because she pickes up her cards between her index and middle fingers and makes to toss them away. While with a craftier player it could have been a ruse, there was just about zero chance of that with her. The dealer stops her from actually mucking her cards as I hadn't called yet, but it didn't really matter; the damage was done for her. I called, and she mucked without showing.
A $360 pot is a pretty good sized one in a 1/2 game, and was huge at that table. It made the whole session for me, and ended hers.
When the ace of spades came down and she pushed, I figured I was pretty done for. She totally threw the pot by reacting to my prompt the way she did. If I hadn't realized, or she had, that the hand wasn't over yet, she'd have won.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Have a Hobby
I clearly recall my first 21+ trip to Vegas. I was so excited to be here, at the center of the poker world, ready to hit the tables and build my poker fame and fortune. Actually, I clearly recall my first 20- trip to Vegas too. I was about 10 or 11, and we stayed at the Luxor, which was pretty new back then. We rode the rides to find the lost obelisk (since retooled completely; I think one of them now features Leslie Nielsen as a pirate, which is weird). The Fremont Street Experience had just been created also, and I remember not clearly understanding what my dad meant leading up to the trip when he told me they’d put a giant LED ceiling on an entire street. Really, that’s also rather weird.
Anyway, fast forward back to when Smokinokun and I rolled into the Extended Stay America to begin our first summer in Vegas. We both had a fair amount of experience already, both online and in person. The first rush of the poker craze hit when I was about 14 or so, and XP nights (Xbox/Poker) became a weekly event. Our XP crowd usually played dealer’s choice, nickel and dime kind of games. I was partial to Follow the Queen and Low Chicago (still am, to tell the truth).
I can sit for hours and hours at a time, focusing on every minute detail of a poker game and its participants, but when I write about the same experience, my mind wanders over every last aspect of the game it knows. Well, I’ll call it context!
The point to which I’ve been leading (on an admittedly roundabout path) is that when we got here, we were both so excited to finally be living the dream, that we didn’t do much else at all. We were in the casino seven days a week most weeks, and when we were at home (which was an actual home after the first couple weeks in the Extended Stay) we spent much of our time playing online tournaments.
We didn’t have a hobby. We didn’t have much of anything in our lives besides poker. I can’t speak for how that affected Smoke’s mindset, but for me, it was a problem.
I had no recourse. Now, and in the time since that first venture, when I have a bad session, or beat, or run, I use that to fuel me in other areas. Having a hobby on which I can spend time when poker’s got me down (which definitely happens to me, and will happen to you too) is a great way to rebound from these bad turns. Otherwise I just get mopey and unproductive and sit around feeling bad.
When I’m feeling out of control from a game of poker, I write. In fact, that can often be when I do my best writing. Often (though not always), it’s even about poker. Come to think of it, I came up with this article after a bad turn of fortune in a tournament recently. I took a walk down the Grand Canal, stopped for a beer, and wrote away in my 3x5” pocket notepad. I felt a lot better afterward. Maybe in some weird way, writing about poker gives me back that feeling of control. And writing about something else (like time travelers or magical global empires beset by faux dragon attacks) gives me an escape. I need both, and I presume most other people do too.
Note that when I tell you here not to do just poker, I don’t mean as it relates to your income. Those reasons are both myriad and deserving of their own blog post. Actually, they’d make a good one; but I’ll get to them in due time. For now I’m focusing on non-monetary incentives to spend time on things away from the poker table. With a hobby, find a task where what you get out of it is firmly under your control and thoroughly unrelated to sustaining yourself or your way of life.
You need something in your life that is fun, rewarding, and most importantly, controllable. I write, but your hobby can be just about anything you enjoy. In poker, you influence the outcome, but you don’t control it. That simple fact is a big part of what gives poker its thrill, but it can mess with your head. Really mess with it. You’ll develop a pretty thick skin if you stick with poker over the long haul, but nobody can keep from being shaken up indefinitely. Imagine the following scenario:
You’re sitting at a table for hours, patiently waiting. You make the occasional play at a small pot, and everything goes fine, but you’re bored. You’re seeing trash hand after trash hand, and with the few marginal, barely playable ones you see, there is a bet, raise, and reraise in front of you every time, so you have to throw them away. The table’s not exactly full of suckers, but there are a couple big donkeys and you’re just waiting to take them for a ride. You’ve given yourself the perfect table image to do it, too. Now all you need is the right hand.
Finally the spot comes, and your strategy works perfectly. You get all in on the flop vs some dummy who has a 3% chance at runners to win the hand. He gets it, of course, and you die a little bit inside.
That’s really not such an unlikely scenario. I’d probably take a five minute walk to clear my head and come back into the game ready to wait for the next spot. But what if it happens again, and again, all in one session? What if 10 hours and 4 buy-ins since you sat down, you have nothing but a smaller bankroll and stories of bad beats to show for your effort?
Those are the situations that will, I promise you, mess with your head. So have a hobby, and make time for it.
Anyway, fast forward back to when Smokinokun and I rolled into the Extended Stay America to begin our first summer in Vegas. We both had a fair amount of experience already, both online and in person. The first rush of the poker craze hit when I was about 14 or so, and XP nights (Xbox/Poker) became a weekly event. Our XP crowd usually played dealer’s choice, nickel and dime kind of games. I was partial to Follow the Queen and Low Chicago (still am, to tell the truth).
I can sit for hours and hours at a time, focusing on every minute detail of a poker game and its participants, but when I write about the same experience, my mind wanders over every last aspect of the game it knows. Well, I’ll call it context!
The point to which I’ve been leading (on an admittedly roundabout path) is that when we got here, we were both so excited to finally be living the dream, that we didn’t do much else at all. We were in the casino seven days a week most weeks, and when we were at home (which was an actual home after the first couple weeks in the Extended Stay) we spent much of our time playing online tournaments.
We didn’t have a hobby. We didn’t have much of anything in our lives besides poker. I can’t speak for how that affected Smoke’s mindset, but for me, it was a problem.
I had no recourse. Now, and in the time since that first venture, when I have a bad session, or beat, or run, I use that to fuel me in other areas. Having a hobby on which I can spend time when poker’s got me down (which definitely happens to me, and will happen to you too) is a great way to rebound from these bad turns. Otherwise I just get mopey and unproductive and sit around feeling bad.
When I’m feeling out of control from a game of poker, I write. In fact, that can often be when I do my best writing. Often (though not always), it’s even about poker. Come to think of it, I came up with this article after a bad turn of fortune in a tournament recently. I took a walk down the Grand Canal, stopped for a beer, and wrote away in my 3x5” pocket notepad. I felt a lot better afterward. Maybe in some weird way, writing about poker gives me back that feeling of control. And writing about something else (like time travelers or magical global empires beset by faux dragon attacks) gives me an escape. I need both, and I presume most other people do too.
Note that when I tell you here not to do just poker, I don’t mean as it relates to your income. Those reasons are both myriad and deserving of their own blog post. Actually, they’d make a good one; but I’ll get to them in due time. For now I’m focusing on non-monetary incentives to spend time on things away from the poker table. With a hobby, find a task where what you get out of it is firmly under your control and thoroughly unrelated to sustaining yourself or your way of life.
You need something in your life that is fun, rewarding, and most importantly, controllable. I write, but your hobby can be just about anything you enjoy. In poker, you influence the outcome, but you don’t control it. That simple fact is a big part of what gives poker its thrill, but it can mess with your head. Really mess with it. You’ll develop a pretty thick skin if you stick with poker over the long haul, but nobody can keep from being shaken up indefinitely. Imagine the following scenario:
You’re sitting at a table for hours, patiently waiting. You make the occasional play at a small pot, and everything goes fine, but you’re bored. You’re seeing trash hand after trash hand, and with the few marginal, barely playable ones you see, there is a bet, raise, and reraise in front of you every time, so you have to throw them away. The table’s not exactly full of suckers, but there are a couple big donkeys and you’re just waiting to take them for a ride. You’ve given yourself the perfect table image to do it, too. Now all you need is the right hand.
Finally the spot comes, and your strategy works perfectly. You get all in on the flop vs some dummy who has a 3% chance at runners to win the hand. He gets it, of course, and you die a little bit inside.
That’s really not such an unlikely scenario. I’d probably take a five minute walk to clear my head and come back into the game ready to wait for the next spot. But what if it happens again, and again, all in one session? What if 10 hours and 4 buy-ins since you sat down, you have nothing but a smaller bankroll and stories of bad beats to show for your effort?
Those are the situations that will, I promise you, mess with your head. So have a hobby, and make time for it.
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