I’d made a rule for myself during my first beer. I would not under any circumstances play the nightly 11pm $225 sbobet second chance tournament. The little $10/$20 cash game was running just fine. Maria and her ex-beau were chatty as always. The dealers were in rare form. I stood to win a little money.
John the Omniscent Cocktail Dude appeared behind me like the Great Gazoo.
“Bud Light.” he said, picking up my empty and replacing it with a full one. I toked him as he walked away, took a slug from the bottle, and made a rule for myself. Unless I was up by $300 or more by 10:30pm, I would not play the 11pm $225.
“Bud Light.” The Great Gazoo was behind me again. Too few minutes had passed in the interim.
“John,” I said, “deliver my next one to Table 23. I’ll be in the $225.”
The $225
The $225 (aka The World Series of Poker nightly Second Chance tournament) sucked, and I don’t say that because I played it five times and never came close to cashing.
Okay, maybe that has something to do with it, but it still sucked.
Don’t get me wrong. It was a well-run tournament with good TDs and good dealers. The payouts were great. First prize was usually around $18,000. Not a bad payday.
But it started at 11pm. Even with gamblers hours, you have to quickly realize, the structure was going to be mercury-on-snot fast. Killing off a couple hundred players in a few hours meant the blinds moved so fast (every 20 minutes as I recall), a quick run to the bathroom meant you were likely going to miss half a level.
Of course, I’m an addict. I love tournaments, good or bad.
But, these days, I’ve …