Always Protect Your Beverage

An axiom of live poker is: "Always protect your hand." If a hand is fouled or mucked by mistake, a player often has no recourse. To protect their cards from misadventure, many players will use a card protector or "capper"—a chip, coin, medallion, or small trinket placed on top of their cards to weigh them down and signal to the dealer the hand is live. 2004 WSOP Main Event champion Greg "FossilMan" Raymer famously uses small fossils as card protectors, and often gives them away to players who beat him.

I got to thinking today about the "protect your hand" rule and card protectors because of a blog post by Rob, over at the cryptically named Rob's Vegas & Poker Blog (here's my memory of one of my first times meeting Rob). Rob may be the last poker blogger left in the wild. He writes regularly, often posting entertaining trip reports (remember those?) about his poker outings in Vegas. With posts filled with wacky hand histories, outlandish characters, and hilarious hijinks, Rob keeps it old school. Nobody consistently puts the "long" in "longform" quite like Rob.

Today, Rob posted a vignette (an "anecdote" by Rob's standards) about having his drink "stolen" from him while he stepped away from the poker table during a tournament at Aria. Now "stolen" is probably a bit of an overstatement. In reality, what likely happened is that a cocktail server saw a glass which appeared abandoned and picked it up in the normal course of her rounds. Look, beverages are free in Vegas poker rooms (though Rob, like most poker players, typically tips the server a buck per drink). So if your glass is picked up with a couple of sips left, no big deal, right? Well, not for Rob, who has—to date—been inspired to pen more than 2,500 words over two posts on the grave injustice of removing his beverage glass before he has consumed every drop of liquid and every cube of ice. 

Given the quirky nature of many poker players, it should not surprise anyone that some poker players can be a little over-protective of their free beverages. Back during our annual Ironman of Poker (IMOP) trip in March 2012, my buddy Santa and I were playing 4/8 Limit Omaha8 at Venetian. As you might expect for such a game, Santa and I were the only players born after World War II. One of the players—let's call her Ruth—reminded me of a raptor; beady-eyed, with talon-like hands that pounced on any pot she drug. 

Ruth, like most of the other players, was a regular in the game. Also like most of the regulars, Ruth complained loudly about everything—the room temperature, the drafty ventilation, her chair, the dealers, the other players, her cards, the board cards, the food and beverage service, the comp system, and whatever topic was brought up at the table. I think it's safe to say that low stakes Omaha8 players are the pettiest, most miserable class of people in any poker room, and possibly in the entire casino.

I had the dubious privilege of sitting next to Ruth. Needless to say, a couple of drunk young guys yucking it up and splashing around did little to lighten the mood at the table. Losing money to a couple of luckboxes who played too many hands and chased (and caught) too many draws was just the latest indignity the regulars had to endure; many of the regulars, including Ruth, were rather vocal in sharing their displeasure at our style of play.

At some point, Ruth ordered dinner. When her food was delivered, it was placed on a side table between us. Of course, we heard a litany of complaints—service was slow, they hadn't gotten her special instructions right, the food was too cold, blah, blah, blah. Nonetheless, Ruth ate her dinner, then got up and went for a walk.

About 15 minutes later, a food server came by and asked if he could remove the dishes from the side table. I told him he could. The server left the side table because I and another player had our drinks sitting on it (the Venetian's tables did not have cup holders).

Another 15 minutes went by, and Ruth returned. Immediately upon sitting down, she snapped: "Where is my soda? Who took my soda?" At that outburst, I remembered Ruth had been drinking a soda with dinner out of a standard glass. When she left, the glass was less than half full, and she had tossed her napkin over it. It certainly had appeared ready to be cleared. But ...

"Why would they take my soda? 

"I told them I thought you were done with dinner."

"I was done eating." Beady eyes glared at me. "Why did you tell them they could take my soda? I put my napkin over it so they wouldn't take it."

Now, I'm not certain if a napkin over a glass is a high society etiquette maneuver which indicates, "please don't take my beverage", or if the Venetian's napkins serve as magical cloaks of beverage invisibility. But Ruth was clearly peeved about her missing soda. So naturally, every server the rest of the evening was given imperious instructions not to touch her beverage glass. And, every time she left the table, the dealer was given strict orders to protect her beverage as though it were an irreplaceable family heirloom. I got the impression—via several glares and snide comments—that Ruth did not find the situation nearly as amusing as I did. Of course, I may have needled her just a little whenever she brought up the topic.

In any event, about a month later I was back in Vegas for a work conference. One night I went over to Venetian to play 1/2 NLHE. As I wandered through the room, I noticed Ruth was back at the 4/8 Omaha8 game. And again, Ruth had a side table next to her to hold her dinner plate and a glass of soda. But this time, Ruth was prepared. Covering her glass was a laminated coaster with a straw hole. Above a large black skull and crossbones on bright yellow background was neatly typed:

"PLEASE—DO NOT TAKE THIS DRINK"

Based on Rob's posts, I bet there's an untapped market for poker drink protectors.

"Please Do Not Take This Drink"
--Venetian Poker Room (April 2012)

One Dealer to a Hand

Last month, I was playing a session of $4/$8 Omaha8 (Gamboool8) at the Venetian poker room. As my readers know, I enjoy the Pot Limit all-high version of Gamboool, but the hi/low split version is still a game I’m trying to learn. I have done some reading about it, and played occasionally in the regular Friday morning $6/$12 game at the Meadows ATM. But a low stakes game like the Venetian spreads is a solid training wheels opportunity that was too good to pass up, particularly on a night where I had decided to lock up my poker profits for the trip and was looking for a recreational game to kill a few hours.

The table was generally friendly, and the action was pretty straightforward. One of the young gun local pros at the table openly discussed his plans for “getting baked” later in the evening, which was hardly surprising once I learned he had attended Grinnell College back in Iowa (a fine institution of higher learning proud of its ultra-liberal culture). When he later let on that he was born and raised in West Virginia, I inquired how he wound up in small town Iowa for college. “Because I wanted to hang out with hippies,” he replied rather matter-of-factly.

Now one reason I enjoy the various forms of Gamboool so much is that novice and casual players are prone to misreading their hands and making rather boneheaded mistakes. Often players making the transition from Hold ‘Em forget the “must use exactly two cards from your hand” rule, and put money in the pot thinking they have a flush, straight, or even full house when they actually have a very weak hand, or they fail to realize when their made hand on the flop or turn has been counterfeited by the river. These mistakes are more pronounced in the hi/low version of the game, where novice/casual players have two different hands to misplay and misread each time they get involved in a pot. Combine these hand reading mistakes with a Hold ‘Em mentality about hand strength, and novice/casual Gamboool players are among the juiciest fish around.

Since it was the smallest limit game being spread at the time, there were three tables with maybe six solid players spread among them (and no, I do not count myself among the ranks of solid Gamboool8 players). So most pots were multiway to the river, and the showdown often resembled a troop of monkeys, cackling and picking lice out of their hair while they figured out what high and low hands they held.

On one hand, I was in late position with As-Qx-Jx-Ts. Now this is a solid high-only hand, but without a low draw, it’s a little more speculative in Gamboool8 since my hand is looking to connect with a high board for a scoop pot (and on a high-only board, you typically get fewer bets in the pot from the low chasers). Still, my hand had some decent value, and I limped in along with pretty much the entire table. The flop was decent, J-T-5 with one of my suit, giving me top two pair (on the rare Omaha board where that holding has much value), along with a gutterball Broadway draw and some potential additional straight and flush draws that could develop on the turn (there’s always hope in Gambool). Six or so of us called the big blind’s bet; I probably should have raised here, but I tend to be a little passive in early rounds of Gambool8 with just altos dos pairs. The turn was a beautiful King, giving me Broadway and the current nuts, but also foreclosing any low draw while also putting a backdoor flush draw (not mine) on the board. A middle position player bet, got a couple of callers, and I raised, getting two callers. The river was an annoying offsuit Queen. Obviously I had just been counterfeited, chopping the pot with any player holding an Ace with any other Brodway card. Still, when it checked to me, I bet, hoping to get some value from a yahoo with a King-high straight, or maybe even getting an inattentive player to fold a Broadway chopping hand. Unfortunately, I got one caller.

I rolled over my hand and declared, “Nuts. Broadway.” I waited for the other player to table his hand, but as is often the case with Gamboool players, he held his hand up in front of him gin rummy style and shifted cards around as he tried to parse out what his best hand might be. The player held an Ace, which I could see, but the player was confused: “I don’t think I can make Broadway.” The dealer was looking at his hand and helpfully blurted out, “Oh yes. You got it.” The player looked back at his cards in confusion. The dealer said, “You have the Ace and the King, that’s Broadway.” The player yanked those cards out, put them on the table, then threw his other two cards down as well. Presto, chopped pot.

It should go without saying that the dealer was out of line here. Nobody, including the dealer, should help read a player’s hand. This is especially true in Gamboool, where players often misread their hands and muck winners. In a bit of irony, this dealer had earlier warned players about reading hands that weren’t tabled. To be fair to the dealer, however, the practice is endemic to low stakes Gamboool, and short of tasering offenders, the practice is just a hazard of the game. But, for those of you playing Gamboool tempted to be the helpful hand reader, just don’t.

Just STFU.

Bob Loblaw on the WPBT

"There's more to life than strippers and booze and buckets of blood.  Why do you guys have buckets of blood?" 

—Michael Bluth (Jason Bateman), on Arrested Development

One of my favorite all-time TV comedies was the hilarious, and underappreciated, Arrested Development.  The show was filled with offbeat, zany characters* finding themselves in absurd situations, while cracking snappy one-liners.  Sounds a lot like the recent WPBT Winter Classic!

I arranged my annual Festivus solo trip to Vegas to coincide with the WPBT this year.  I figured I followed many of these folks' blogs, why not meet a few of them?  Not to mention their trip reports always seemed to involve a high degree of hilarity ...

So I departed Des Moines Thursday morning, landing in Vegas before noon.  My room at Planet Hollywood was not yet available, so I moseyed over to Aria to play some poker.  I ran into "Missing Flops", a Vegas lawyer who blogs on Vegas Poker Now, who was playing the 1:00 p.m. tournament. My poker session was pretty meh, but I did entertain myself by tormenting a hoodie.  This young kid would glare at me from under his hoodie anytime I raised or called his bet.  I had a decent read on his style, which was a basic uber-aggressive approach that might've been profitable three or four years ago.  So, I played a few pots with him, winning almost all of them.  One interesting hand I had some sort of suited gapper and limped UTG.  Hoodie raised to $15, got a couple of callers, so I repopped it to $75 straight; big glare and a muck.  The pièce de résistance was when I called him down in position with Q6 soooted for bottom pair after he three-barreled an unimproved Ace-King.  The glare after I rolled over that hand probably means I shouldn't expect a holiday card this year.  As I was walking back to Planet Hollywood to check into my room (themed around the forgettable—and for me, forgotten—movie Mimic), the Aria poker room tweeted:

@Grange95 thanks for coming out!

Unintentional comedy at its finest.

After checking into Planet Hollywood, I wandered down the Strip to play "flop a Royal" at Mirage.  I failed.  Then it was on to dinner with Poker Grump and Missing Flops at Dos Caminos in the Palazzo.  There was a great deal of merriment and some serious debate over poker and politics.  Then it was off to the Imperial Palace to check up on the WPBT crew at the Geisha Bar.

At this point, I was confronted with a horde of poker bloggers.  Lots of names and faces were learned and promptly forgotten.  Hey, I'm old now, it happens.  I do remember meeting Otis (resplendent in a white polyester sportcoat with faux suede trim), BuddyDank (central casting for any middle-aged slacker), Ian (central Iowa resident I had inexplicably never seen at a poker table before, and whose blogger name I forget; EDIT: It's NumbBono!), and Falstaff (a big ol' teddy bear who was carrying a pitcher of beer, but no glass.  Epic!).  The irrepressible F-Train made an appearance, and I also saw the famed Pauly at the nearby pai gow table, with a rowdy group of compatriots.

Although I'm a fairly outgoing person, being the newbie among a herd of old friends can be a little awkward.  So I wandered over to the IP's poker room.  I had to play some 2/4 LHE while waiting for a 1/2 NLHE seat to open, but that worked out just fine as Alaska Gal dealt me pocket Kings, flopped me a set, and I managed to get an old guy with KJ to think I was bullying him, resulting in a pot over $75.  Excellent!  I don't remember much of the 1/2 NLHE game, except that CaityCaity, CK, skidoo, Katkin, and Falstaff all put in appearances at various points in time.

I then wandered back to P-Ho, intending to go to bed, but instead being seduced by the siren song of a juicy NLHE game.  There were a couple of young guys I would see several times over the next few days, as well as a crazy Asian guy fresh off a baccarat session.  This guy would buy in for $300, leave it in the rack, and then go all-in preflop.  After a few rounds of this, with most folks folding, I screwed up the courage to call him with 44 and a $100ish stack.  I doubled up.  A few hands later, I call again, with 66, and held up.  A few hands later, I call again with 44, and again doubled up.  The other guys, however, were not doing as well, finding hands like AK, AJ, and QQ getting shot down by the crazy guy's trash hands.  It was the most insane poker I've seen, outside several sessions at Bally's after midnight (crazy Gremlin poker there!).  The weirdest moment came when the crazy guy mentioned that he was waiting for his suite to be set up.  Apparently, he was a high roller, and was hosting a party that afternoon, so he was having a stripper pole and shower installed in the living room.  Clearly I don't do Vegas properly.

Friday morning rolled around ... well, Friday noon rolled around, and I headed out to find some poker.  I decided to see what Bally's was like in the daylight hours.  Apparently, just as crazy.  I was seated next to a weird dude who seemed wired.  In between jitters, he would run off at the mouth, sharing that he preferred heroin to booze "because it doesn't affect my poker game as much", and bragging he not only once starred in porn (maybe back in the early 80s), he also "once was on TV and used to date strippers".  He hit on a nice Swedish lady at the table, including using this gem of a pickup line: "You're from Sweden?  I love IKEA and Swedish porn."  Unfortunately, he also was a bad poker player.  When I flopped a set and had trapped a kid overplaying Aces, PornStar calls my massive check-raise saying, "I need to gamble here."  Yes, the poker gods do reward donkeys, letting him flush my set for a monsterpotten.  Le sigh.

I met up with my Brooklyn gals, Mary and "Dawn Summers" (too many blogs to link), for dinner at the Grand Wok at MGM.  Joining us were several of their NYC crew, including Ross, F-Train, and VinNay.  Dawn and I took competing pictures of each other at the table:

After dinner, it was off to the MGM poker room for some cards and hilarity.  Instead, there were 2,000 drunk cowboys dancing at Centrifuge Bar, creating quite the ruckus.  I did play for a short time, including a hand where Josie dropped by to say hello, and saw me crack Aces with 9h4h; what a hot and fiery good luck charm she is!  I stayed long enough to see some smoking woman-on-woman action between CK and The Wife, then bailed for the quieter tables at Mirage.

Error.  Turns out, the Mirage was hosting the official National Finals Rodeo party in its sportsbook.  The entire sportsbook and surrounding casino floor space was crammed with cowboys and cowgirls dancing the night away.

 

In case you were wondering, why yes, that is a giant cactus in the middle of the Mirage sportsbook!  Now, lest you think I'm poking fun, let me be clear.  I grew up on a farm in western Nebraska, was in 4-H and FFA, did my share of showing and judging livestock at the county and state fairs, and had an uncle with a big cattle ranch in the Nebraska Sand Hills.  So, although I'm not a big rodeo fan, folks that are rodeo fans—complete with cowboy hats, cowboy boots, western cut jeans, western style shirts, and big shiny belt buckles—are part of my original tribe.  The band was actually quite good, and ripped through a ton of old school country hits (my favorite that night was a version of "Louisiana Saturday Night" that pretty much had the whole crowd two-steppin').  Regrettably, cowboys also can be donkeys—and lucky donkeys—at the poker tables, and after dodging quad aces then being whacked by two horrendous four-outers (is there any other kind?), I decided to pack it in for the night.

Of course, I had to stop by the P-Ho poker room, since it was conveniently located by the elevators to my room.  First hand I ran second nut flush into the nut flush, but then the tide turned as I started pounding greyhounds (to prevent scurvy, of course).  For my big hand of the night, I had K8 of crubs, flopped trip Kings, rivered quads, and got paid in full on my river shove (a 2x pot bet) by a young kid trying to impress his girlfriend with his Ace-rag bluff.  Now that's a hero call!  Thank you, come again!  I also had the pleasure of sitting next to a young Hungarian guy who recited lines from Rounders.  Nothing quite like a Hungarian doing an imitation of John Malkovich ("Teddy KBG") doing a bad Russian accent.

Saturday started off with the awesome WPBT tournament at Aria.  Since this didn't make it into my prior writeup of the tourney, I did want to mention I got to play for a bit with Chilly (who I knew from back in the day when I went to college with he and his wife), and also got to briefly meet the legendary Al Can't Hang (who is much smaller, quieter, and saner in real life than one might imagine).  EDIT:  I failed to mention a really interesting fellow I met during the tournament and later played some cash games with:  Travis, a/k/a "OnAFoldDraw".  Funny guy, good player, looking forward to hanging with him more next year.

After the tournament, I found myself walking over to MGM with Katkin, Dr. Chako, and The Wife to play mixed games.  The Doc and the Wife are awesome folks, very friendly and entertaining.  The Wife grew up in small town Wisconsin, so we found plenty to chat about.  For example, she had 50 or so people in her high school graduating class, while I had 7.  The mixed games were more donking than playing.  I did flop quad 9s in hold 'em against The Wife, and later tilted a fat guy with bad "Flock of Seagulls" hair into leaving the table after I kept calling him down when he tried to bluff (dude, bluffing in 3/6 limit? riiiigghhhttt).

The reindeer games came to a close when CK invited the Chakos and me to a comped dinner at Lemongrass in Aria.  This was a fantastic dinner, as we shared a couple of appetizers and four spicy Asian dishes.  I would highly recommend eating here with your Aria poker room comp dollars.  Even better than the food, however, was the company, as my dinner companions regaled me with amusing stories of prior WPBT hijinks as well as tales of their family lives.  That two hours was easily the highlight of my trip, and made me glad I had moved my Festivus trip to include the WPBT.  Good folks, those three.

After dinner, we cabbed it to Imperial Palace for some poker and to see who might be at the Geisha Bar.  At the bar, we saw Miami Don with his Golden Hammer trophy; a well-deserved win for a guy who had dominated my last table.  Pauly and some of the WPBT old guard were holding court, and I managed sightings of Astin and Katitude, two people I would love to chat with briefly next year.  Funny thing, I had pictured Astin as a brawny, outdoorsy guy, and in reality he's a sharp-dressing young professional type.  Katitude, though, fit my image of her.  Both seem to be pretty easy-going and entertaining.

I wandered over to the IP poker tables, where I lost a big pot to Grubette (at least, I think it was her), when my AcTc flopped top pair and a flush draw, and the turn card gave me altos dos pairs.  Regrettably, it also gave Grubette her gutterball Broadway, and I failed to improve.  My own fault though, for not raising enough on the flop.  However, I could hardly be gloomy because The Wife mentioned she was straddling at her table, which somehow led to her straddling me and giving me a lap dance during a Dealertainer rendition of "Achy Breaky Heart".  There were dozens of guys jealous of me at that point!

The evening progressed with other friends joining the action at various points, including Dawn, Mary, and CaityCaity.  There was one weird guy at the table, who dressed like he was touring with some bad 80s band.  The only other memorable hand of the session was when, for only the second time in my life, I folded Kings preflop.  A older, nitty guy had raised big, I reraised, and he proceeded to shove without hesitation.  I assumed he had Aces, and I also wanted to protect my ~$450 stack.  He rolled over ... A8 soooted.  Wow.  I play so bad.  (For what it's worth, the only other time I folded Kings preflop was under similar circumstances, but with far deeper stacks; I was wrong that time, too).

I headed back to P-Ho, where the late night game was in full crazy mode.  Two young guys at the table were trying to prop bet on all manner of stupid stuff, like whether the next person to walk past a certain spot would be male or female.  Thankfully, the louder one was a bad player, and donated ~$1,500 to the table.  Strangely, when the song "Danger Zone" came on, it turned out he not only had no idea the song was in the movie Top Gun, he had never even heard of Top Gun!  Kids these days ... However, this did lead to a hilarious remainder of the session, as we nicknamed the three young guys at the table wearing sunglasses "Goose", "Maverick", and "Iceman".

Sunday was much more sedate.  I skipped the WPBT festivities at Lagasse's Stadium in favor of sleeping in followed by a fun lunch at Hash House A Go Go with "Local Rock", a frequent poster on AVP.  I then tracked down Dr. Chako and The Wife at the Venetian/Palazzo compound in order to say goodbye.  This was followed by a rapid shopping trip for something to pay the spouse pass; I ended up getting the sig other a watch, since it was from a trendy designer he likes, it travels easily, and I about threw up in my mouth at the idea of spending $150-$200 for a shirt he wanted.

Shopping done, I returned to the Venetian to play some $1/$2 PLG (pot limit gambooool).  Also at the table were entertaining WPBT degenerates Drizz, Falstaff, and Katkin, along with a rotating assortment of crazy Canadians, a scary Scandi, and an alliterative Asian.  The game was great fun, and I even cashed out a nice profit.  One cooler hand I tweeted, where I flopped Kings-up with a flush draw and turned Kings-full:

Falstaff and I get it in on the turn, my Ks full of 8s vs. his KQ76. He calls for the Queen. I cry. #PLG #wpbt

There was another big hand, this time where I folded on the flop to monster three-way action.  I folded a monster draw that I think should have been a call, but I'll post the hand later for comments.  Anyway, a little before midnight, Katkin and I cashed out and went to Noodle Asia for some food and interesting poker and politics chat.  If you ever have a chance to sit down with Katkin, do it.  Fascinating fellow.

I headed back to P-Ho, popping into Imperial Palace briefly to say goodbye to Dawn and Mary.  The P-Ho late night game was in full crazy swing, yet I couldn't get much traction.  My final hand of the trip involved me getting it all-in three ways on the flop with Ac2c vs. CaityCaity's 99 and some young ET's 88.  Final board: Qc56c79.  Yup, not only did crubs not get there (thanks so much, CK), but Caity's set gave ET his miracle straight.  Yup, I run awesome.

During this trip, I had experienced every kind of negative variance.  I lost to 2-outers, 3-outers, and 4-outers.  I was outflopped, turned, and rivered.  I was outdrawn, but couldn't hit my monster draws.  I ran into set over set, straight over straight, flush over flush, boat over boat, and yes, even ran into quads.  Still, Vegas did have one last bad beat waiting for me, even after I put away the remnants of my Vegas bankroll.**  I got into a cab Monday morning to head to the airport.  Upon learning that I play poker, my cabbie proceeded to suck five minutes out of my soul by regaling me with his brother's bad beat story.  For those who care, his brother was supposedly playing $5/$10 NLHE at the Venetian, flopped quad Kings, and lost to a rivered royal flush (the other guy had QJ soooted and flopped the open-ended straight flush draw).  The cabbie was outraged the Venetian didn't have a badbeat jackpot, "like the Orleans, or other good poker rooms".  Please, join me in lighting a candle to the poker gods tonight in memory of this guy who now is apparently also driving cabs, trying to rebuild his poker bankroll.

I returned to Iowa to find single-figure temperatures, sub-zero windchills, and snow.  But, a happy Berkeley was there to snuggle up and keep me warm, and it was nice to actually get home.  Still, my Festivus/WPBT adventures were a ton of fun, and I look forward to next year when I can see my all my friends old and new, and hopefully meet more of the WPBT folks.  Notables on the "to meet" list:  Bayne, BadBlood, Iggy, StB, and April, though I quite likely met at least some of these folks and had no idea who they were.  

And next year, my 85 offsuit will hold up.

------------------------------------------------------------------

* My favorite character name on the show was "Bob Loblaw", an attorney who also wrote a blog, "The Bob Loblaw Law Blog".  Say his name out loud and you'll get why his character always made me crack up.

** Actually, I ran well enough that, although it was a losing trip, most of the big pots I lost cut into my profits for that session, rather than into my initial buy-in.  Still, a small losing trip could've been a monster winning trip had the poker gods been just a bit more kind on a few key hands.

How to Train Your Yaks

"There are three ways to play jacks, and they're all wrong."

—Mark Seif on the Professional Poker Tour (not necessarily original with him).

Hiccup: [reading in the Dragon Manual]  "Eats its victims. Burns its victims. Buries its victims, chokes its victims, turns its victims inside-out."

—How to Train Your Dragon

Every poker player dreads finding Yaks (pocket Jacks).  We all know the siren song of the Yaks:  "Look at us!  So pretty!  So powerful!  We're nearly invincible!"  Then, you preflop raise, get the inevitable two or three callers, and the flop comes down with at least an Ace and usually a King or Queen to boot.  The Yaks whisper seductively, "They don't have an Ace.  We're still ahead.  Fire away!"  Then comes the raise.  There's always a raise when you have Yaks.  The Yaks lean in to murmur with their clover breath, "It's a bluff.  He's representing the Ace.  All he has is a flush draw."  Well ... hmmm ... yes, that makes sense.  The Yaks run a hoof up your thigh, "Aren't we pretty?  How can you turn us down? Soooo pretty!"  You push.  Your opponent snap-calls with Ace-King or a set of Queens.  You throw up a little in your mouth as the Yaks tapdance on your poker soul.  You make the poker player resolution—"Next time I'll fold those Yaks.  Seriously, watch me."

Well, I happen to think Yaks are magnificent, beautiful cards that are just misunderstood.  They are so much classier than those trampy suited Broadway cards—don't even get me started on that harlot, King-Queen sooooted.  If you can train them properly, your Yaks will bring you a lifetime of joy and profit at the poker tables.  Mistreat them, however, and they will make your life so miserable, you will wish you had taken up extreme ironing instead of poker as your stupid hobby of choice (extreme ironing—"the latest danger sport that combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt").

As many of you may have noticed, I recently managed to sneak away for a quick trip to Vegas with the sig other and two of his gal pals.  We enjoyed a great suite at the Palazzo, thanks to the awesome poker room rate deal.  I was "forced" to play a lot of poker, while the gals roamed the Strip, shopping and "boozing our faces off".  A perfect arrangement, if I may say so myself.  Best of all, I was able to work in some stellar Yak-training.

Our trip out was a breeze, leaving Des Moines at 8:30 a.m., and checking into the Palazzo by 11:30 a.m. Vegas time.  An oddity we encountered was a flock of birds inside the Denver "B" terminal; seriously, eight or so birds were just hopping and flitting around the empty seats.  Thankfully, there was a flu vaccine kiosk conveniently located in the same terminal, so I was able to ward off the bird flu.  Indoor birds—an inspired, yet devious marketing concept.  Well played, FLU*Ease!

We met up with the gals who took an early flight, and had been boozing on the Strip since 9:30 a.m.  Being on Iowa time, we hit Margaritaville for a quick lunch.  The food is decent for the price, and it never hurts to start the Vegas experience with a frosty tequila-based beverage.  After lunch, the gals headed off for some fun, while I headed back to the Venetian to grind some hours.

The Venetian poker room was packed, thanks to one of its Deep Stack Extravaganza tournaments being in full swing.  I remember my second trip to Vegas, just after the Venetian opened, when the poker room was large, fancy, and nearly empty.  You have to tip your cap to the Venetian poker room's management for having transformed itself into the most popular room on the Strip for both cash games and tournaments.  There's a good reason the Ironman of Poker festivities have been based out of the Venetian four of the past six years.

I got into a $1/$2 NLHE cash game after only a few minutes wait, even though every cash game table—all forty-some of them—appeared full, with the tourney area on the casino floor also jam-packed.  Nothing too exciting happened for a while.  Then, the Poker Grump and the Black Widow of Poker moved to my table.*  Now, with the Grump rocking the deuce-four, and the Black Widow wielding her crub whistle, I assumed that bad things would happen.  Ahhh, but I forgot that I now possess the power of the Yaks!

Oh yes, Yaks, beautiful Yaks!  The Grump, the Black Widow, and I have played a number of interesting sessions, but so far as I recall, we've only had pedestrian monsterpotten, with silly hands like flush-over-flush-over-set, but no deuce-four-vs.-crubs-vs.-Yaks showdowns.  Yet.  But this night was different.  The Grump allegedly bluffed me off a nice pot with a ridiculous 64 sooooted; like that nit would play that junky hand!  On the other hand, my iPhone notes indicate I bluffed the Grump off a flopped set of Yaks with pure rags when the river put a four flush and a four card straight on board.  Kuh-niggut!

[NOTE:  Per the Grump's comments below, it appears I bluffed another player entirely.  I should've known I could never get the better of the Grump!]

The real fireworks, unfortunately, focused on the Black Widow.  In back to back hands in my blinds, I found Yaks.  On the first hand, I took down a nice pot when the flop came all low cards (I don't recall the details, but I think the Black Widow folded in disgust on the turn).  Of course, being a gentleman (and a scholar), I showed the Yaks.  Next hand, my Yaks flopped pretty well, as far as Yaks are concerned—T-9-8, giving me an open-ended straight draw to go with my overpair.  The Black Widow and I got all our chips in the pot on the flop, and I rivered a 7 for the straight (two straights, for my cribbage-playing readers), though I wonder if my Yaks were already ahead.  Although I greatly respect and even, ahem, like, the Grump and the Black Widow, I'll still stack their chips any day.  In fact, as my long-time friend and fellow Ironman Santa Claus can attest, chips won from friends are especially sweet (this was the first anniversary of Santa taunting me in Lincoln after his CyClowns beat the Huskers—I had obtained 50-yard line, front seats to that debacle—then felted me at the Horseshoe on the way home with flopped set over set.  Bastard.).

I eventually cashed out and joined the gals for a disastrous dinner.  I then returned to the Venetian poker room for a few more hours of incredibly unmemorable poker.  I was a winner at both sessions, but honestly don't remember much at all about the swirl of interchangeable short-stacked semi-skilled poker players who donated their chips to me and the house.

The next day, I decided to head to the TI poker room for some poker while watching the Huskers play the CyClowns.  TI's poker room is a personal favorite; even the sig other has told me I should play there more often, since it usually results in his being able to get some extra shopping cash.  Meghan and Michelle were running the show, and they even put me on the cash game list when I phoned in, despite my not leaving my name; talk about customer service!  They also called down to the sports book to get the Huskers game put on one of the poker room TVs. 

I then proceeded to put on a Yak-training clinic.  In the course of about four hours, I was dealt Yaks a total of six times.  Many lesser players would have been driven insane by such a Cthulhu-ian nightmare.  Instead, I yoked those Yaks and played them brilliantly by flopping sets on five of the hands.  On one of the hands, I even turned quads, netting me a bonus wheel spin for $50 in jackpot cash.  As for the hand where I didn't flop a set, the flop instead was A-K-Q.  Mere mortals would have flinched, but no, I knew better.  I simply continuation bet the flop, then turned the Ten for Broadway and a good ol' fashioned stacking.  Nothing better than a four-rack cashout!

Later that night, back at the Venetian, I had my Kings snapped by a flopped set of Yaks, though I got a small measure of revenge when I later parlayed 53 sooooted into a wheel against his Aces-Up.  The next evening, after United Airlines overbooked my flight and then replaced the big overbooked plane with a smaller (and surprisingly still overbooked) plane, I enjoyed two bonus sessions of poker at Harrah's (thanks to the Total Rewards card which hooked me up with a $27 room during the cab ride from the airport back to the Strip).  My first session was Yak-free, though I did lose a big hand with 77 on a flop of Q-8-7 rainbow; we got it all-in and I was up against 88 and ... Q7?!?  Nothing better than drawing dead with two cards to come.

After dinner at KGB in Harrah's, I decided to play a total LAG-maniac donk session.  There were a couple of amusing hands, like where I showed deuce-four of crubs as a bluff.  Another player who follows the Grump (AVPer "acrtp") was sitting next to me, and complained he needed lessons in playing the deuce-four.  Well, the very next hand, I found the deuce-four and used it to stack a guy when I rivered ... something.  It doesn't really matter, as the deuce-four always finds a way to win.  Later, a good player flopped two pair with QJ, and snapped a flopped straight by rivering a full house.  On the next hand, I took down a pot on the flop with QJ, showed it, and declared, "I was on a full house draw!"  The other player smiled once he realized I was joking, and not poking fun at him.  Which reminds me—this trip I saw three near throwdowns, each of which resulted in a player ejection.  Intriguingly, I was not the instigator in any of the fights.

After running up my stack to maybe $800 total, the wheels came off beginning with a hand where I held Ace-Deuce sooooted, and flopped dos pairs with A-J-2.  After a weird min-3-bet of my near-min check-raise, I coulda-shoulda-woulda gotten away from my hand.  But no, I was stupid and doubled up the relative short stack with his infernal Yaks.  Dammit!  Freakin' luckbox to catch a set like that!  Live by the Yaks, die by the Yaks.  I took two more hits with my KK running into AA in a three-way all-in preflop, and when I pushed the flop with top pair against a flush draw that found the river.  Sigh.  If it weren't for bad luck, I'd win at least half of my races.

Sensing that I was getting too tired to swim in what had changed from a koi pond to a shark tank, I cashed out and was heading to my room for a quick nap, when I heard the siren song of the pits.  Hmmm, well, I was in Vegas, why not have some fun with my poker profits?  I sat down and played blackjack for about an hour, deciding to leave once I got up $500.  But, on the way to the cashier, I saw a craps table in operation.  Fancy seeing one of those in Vegas!  I couldn't resist the call of the dice, so I stepped up to the opposite end from the other player.  He went on a good run, then I went on a good run, and suddenly we had a busy table of folks laughing and raking in chips.  At one point, I had my buy-in plus $1,000 in profit in my hand, with another ~$500 on the table.  An ill-timed seven threw some cold water on the fun, and I decided to cash out.  On my way to the cage, the blackjack pit boss said hello, and since she was a nice lady, I sat down to chat a bit while playing a few more hands of blackjack with my favorite dealer, Phil (his nametag said "TC", but he looked like a Phil, and since I tipped well, he agreed to the name change).  After a half hour, I was up another $300, and had to leave to catch my flight.  So, altogether not a bad result for getting bumped from my flight!  (Interestingly, my little degenerate moment nearly tripled my Harrah's Total Rewards tier points, leaving me within a stone's throw of moving up from a gold card to a platinum card.  It's good to have goals!).

In any event, now y'all know how to train your Yaks.

Original image and more about Yaks at the Lance Fox blog.

* In addition to Poker Grump and the Black Widow, I ran into a number of readers on my trip—AVPers AlaskaGal, Mrs. Lederer, zippyboy, Rich/acrtp, and ekirwin; Vegas Poker Now bigshots Yappy Dave, Clem, and MissingFlops; poker bloggers Tarpie and "S" (a/k/a  "Mr. DiceGRRL"); WPBT last-longer challenge teammate CaityCaity (the illustrious "Knights Who Say 'Nit!'", unless we become the "Nits Who Say 'Ni!'"); and at least three other readers whose names escape my increasingly age-addled mind (my apologies!).

MGM Slides Closer to the Abyss

This past week saw the release of official corporate financial statements for the 1st Quarter of 2010, including financial statements for MGM Mirage (or whatever they call themselves this year), Las Vegas Sands (owner of Venetian and Palazzo), and Wynn Resorts (owner of, well, Wynn and Encore). Since Harrah's Entertainment went private, financial reporting is still available, but the data is more limited.

I discussed the Aria financial picture a month ago, when MGM issued an advisory warning of projected poor first quarter financial results, primarily related to the City Center project. None of the final numbers reported last week are significantly different than the advisory numbers.  However, it appears that Aria's gambling revenues are fairly solid, at $75.9 million.  But the occupancy issue at Aria (a mere 63%) remains a serious issue going forward:

[MGM Mirage CEO Jim] Murren said CityCenter's non-gambling revenue—which he told Nevada gambling regulators last year could end up being four times greater than its casino revenue—will take longer to grow.

"That side takes longer to build unless you just want to give away the store and be highly promotional and lower the room rates," Murren said. "That would be, we believe, very damaging long term, and unnecessary.

"We fortunately have the luxury of time to allow Aria and CityCenter to build in a graceful, logical fashion," he said. "We're not in a crisis mode where we need a certain amount of money on a daily basis or a weekly basis because of some financial covenant."

....

Murren said Aria's bookings are improving for the rest of the year for conferences, which generate higher room rates than leisure travel. He expects that to help occupancy.

—Oskar Garcia (AP), in The Tacoma News Tribune (5/6/10) (emphasis added).

The problem with Murren's statement is that, at least to my eye, Aria's marketing blitz the past month or so has been directed to individual gamblers, via emails to MGM slot club members and internet ads targeted to gaming related websites.  This is hardly the higher-revenue conference-attending crowd that Murren claims is vital to Aria's survival.  More to the point, the email and online ads are for greatly reduced rates, usually around $109 for weekdays, $139 on weekends.  This is certain to undercut Aria's intended price point which is meant to compete with the $200+ average daily rates (ADR) of Bellagio, Wynn/Encore, and Venetian/Palazzo.

Also of note is that MGM failed to release a Revenue Per Available Room (REVPAR) figure for Aria, a standard metric for measuring revenue in the casino business.  MGM provided REVPAR data for all of its other properties.  As a reference point, Bellagio had an ADR of $199 and a REVPAR of $181 for the quarter, which appears a fairly standard ratio for the higher end Strip properties—the ADR/REVPAR figures for Venetian ($202/$180), Palazzo ($214/$201), and Wynn/Encore ($203/$181) are in the same general range as Bellagio.  Presumably, Aria's REVPAR is embarassingly low, or it would have been reported.

While digging through some older Las Vegas Sands financial statements, I discovered that the Palazzo, which opened in December 2007, had first quarter 2008 occupancy of 79.1%, ADR of $244, and REVPAR of $193.  I tried to find first quarter data for Encore following its opening in December 2008, but Wynn Resorts does not separate out the two Vegas properties in its financial reports.  However, the joint Wynn/Encore figures for that first quarter of 2009 reflect an occupancy rate of 89.5%, ADR of $222, and REVPAR of $199, almost identical to Palazzo's performance that same period, and slightly ahead of Venetian.  Given that Aria is running 16 points behind Palazzo's post-opening first quarter occupancy rate, and has a substantially lower ADR ($194), the REVPAR for Aria seems highly likely to fall below $150.  If so, those results have to be greatly disappointing for MGM.

While looking through the financial statements, I put together a few spreadsheets analyzing past year trends, as well as comparing trends from the peak market of 2007 through present (you can review the spreadsheets here).  I also put together some interesting charts from the financial data.  Unfortunately, the Harrah's Entertainment financial data I was able to locate was not particularly helpful, as it didn't break the data out in as detailed a fashion as the other major Strip players.  In fact, for Harrah's, occupancy rates, ADR, and REVPAR are not reported, nor are most categories of revenues and expenses (Harrah's reports casino revenue, and lumps all other revenue streams into an "other" category).  But, let's take a quick look at what the data show (you can click on any chart for an enlarged version).

These first two charts show the trend by revenue category for MGM Mirage's Strip properties, comparing first quarters from 2007-2010.  Essentially, MGM's net revenues are down 30%-48% in all categories (see the spreadsheets for detailed breakdown). 

The next chart compares ADR and REVPAR data for MGM Mirage Strip properties, Wynn/Encore (combined), and the Venetian (the Palazzo data is similar, and was omitted to make the chart clearer).  Harrah's does not report ADR and REVPAR figures, but their financial statements indicate that both statistics continued to decline; I suspect their figures would fall near or below the MGM Mirage line given their stable of "value" oriented resorts.  In fairness to MGM, the Bellagio's ADR/REVPAR stats would be quite close to the Venetian and Wynn numbers.  The problem is that MGM needs Aria to be another Bellagio (or better), while it seems more likely to perform as another Mandalay Bay or Mirage.

 

The final four charts compare four categories of revenues for MGM Mirage Strip properties, Las Vegas Sands, and Wynn Resorts.  Harrah's Entertainment has been added into the chart for casino revenue, the only category where reliable data could be found.  For the retail/entertainment category, the two categories were combined to enable apples to apples comparisons across the different reporting methods; however, the general ratio of retail to entertainment revenues is roughly 60/40.  Given MGM Mirage's stranglehold on the Cirque du Soleil shows, as well as any number of other shows, the poor performance in the entertainment revenue category is rather curious.

 

From the data, it looks like MGM is still struggling, with the revenue decreases flattening out, but still continuing to decline across all categories.  Harrah's is showing an uptick in casino revenues, but the financial statements indicate that revenues overall are down 4.4%; with non-casino revenues comprising about 2/3 of overall revenues, it's apparent that non-casino revenues declined at a greater rate than 4.4%.  For Sands Las Vegas and Wynn Resorts, however, it looks like they have hit bottom and are starting to climb back out of their recent financial hole, with Sands Las Vegas doing better than Wynn Resorts.  One interesting side note is that Sands Las Vegas got more bang for their buck with Palazzo (opening December 2007) than Wynn Resorts did with Encore (opening December 2008).

One interesting piece of information I came across in the Sands Las Vegas and Wynn Resorts financial statements was the slot "hold" rate.  Sands Las Vegas routinely reports a slots hold of 7.0%-7.8% (increased from 6% in 2008), while Wynn Resorts reports a lower hold of 4.5%-5.5%.  So, if you're looking for the best bang for your buck, at least at the ritzy casinos, you may want to make the walk over to Wynn or Encore instead of sticking around the Palazzo or Venetian.

----------------------------------------
* UPDATE (10 May 2010):  Harrah's Entertainment released a quarterly report today (May 10, 2010), which provided additional financial data that has been incorporated into the Casino Net Revenue chart and accompanying discussion.

Poker Is Not a Team Sport

Despite my recent paean to the Venetian poker room, there is always room for improvement.  In fact, this past weekend, I observed one of the more unsettling scenes of collusion I can remember witnessing at a poker table.

The scene was a 2/5 NLHE game late Sunday night / early Monday morning.  I was playing alongside my IMOP teammate Barbie in what was a juicy, action-packed game.  Most players had $1,000 or more behind, and monster pots were common.  It quickly became apparent that three younger guys at the table—Larry, Moe, and Curly—were friends away from the table.  Now, I often play at the same table as friends, though I try to keep the number to one or two.  I also don't hold back when playing against friends, and they don't hold back against me.  In some respects, it is actually more satisfying to beat friends who know my game, as they pose a greater challenge than many random players who are donkey arks passing in the night.

Larry, Moe, and Curly were aggressive, even by this game's hyper-aggro standards, so they often found themselves against each other in pots.  They would then do a lot of annoying chatter, stuff like:  "I've got a hand, get out", "I know you're on a draw", "Jacks are no good", that sort of thing.  It's annoying but generally harmless, unless you count the minutes being sucked out of the game by all the posturing.

Then this weird hand came up.  Larry raised to $30 preflop, and was called by Moe, Curly, and Irish Guy (not because he was Irish, but because he had on a Notre Dame windbreaker).  The flop came down something highly coordinated, like 9-8-6 with two of a suit.  Larry bet $75, Moe called, Curly raised to $150, Irish Guy called, Larry raised to $300, Moe muttered and folded, and Curly pushed all-in for over $1,500, which covered Irish Guy and Larry.  Irish Guy thought a long time, then folded.

At this point, Curly starts talking to Larry: "You know I have a big hand, you should fold."  Larry responded, "But I have a big hand, too."  Larry started counting out chips, and Curly went into overdrive: "Why go broke?  Give me the pot and I'll give you your last bet [$300] back."  Larry says, "Make it $400 and I'll fold."

Now, the dealer was very young, but to her credit she did speak up at this point: "I can't have you discuss deals at the table.  If you want to do something away from the table, that's your business."  Larry and Curly ignored her and kept talking about a "rebate" if Larry folded.  Finally, Larry folded, and Curly picked up $300 in green and red chips and walked them over to Larry, who put them in his stack.

Now the interesting part of the situation was that, before paying the "rebate", Curly rolled over a combo draw (gutshot and non-nut flush draw).  Larry showed down JJ for just an overpair.  Irish Guy saw the hands and muttered about laying down top two pair.  Irish Guy was visibly bothered, and left within a few hands.

So what was wrong with the Stooges' conduct?  In essence, they colluded by raising and reraising to get Irish Guy to fold, then cutting a deal to minimize their variance.  It seemed pretty clear that these guys had run this "rebate" deal many times in the past.  I have no problem with this practice if the pot has been heads up the entire way, but where a third player has put in a significant amount of money, and is forced to fold to two other players' raises and reraises, the "rebate" practice carries the stench of collusion. 

I wish the dealer had called the floor about the situation, and it would have been interesting to see how the situation would have been handled.  My gut reaction is that nothing could be done about the hand in question once Irish guy folded, but a stern warning at the minimum would have been in order.  In hindsight, Irish Guy had the right response—there's no reason to play an individual game against a team.

Sweet Home Venetian

The Ironman of Poker (IMOP) returned this year to the Venetian, now home base for three out of five IMOPs.  Although IMOP events are held up and down the Strip, the bulk of IMOP cash game play tends to be at the home base, partly because of the convenience, and partly because of the need to rack up enough hours to qualify for the deeply discounted poker room rate. 

So, why the Venetian?  There are several reasons, including:

* Poker room quality—The Venetian is, if not the nicest-looking poker room in Vegas, at least in the conversation with Wynn, Bellagio, and Aria.  Actually, I'd throw Hard Rock into mix, though it is not particularly convenient.  There is plenty of room between tables (unlike Bellagio), and the chairs are comfy.  Moreover, playing poker at the Venetian gives a sense of being part of the glamor of the Vegas experience, rather than being stuck in a dumpy back room somewhere.

* Location—The Venetian poker room is prominently located by the main casino floor and sportsbook, as well as being just inside a main entrance from the Strip, and right by a set of escalators coming from the Venetian Canal Shops and Tao nightclub.  Definitely a good spot to attract casual players passing by.

* Number of tables & players—The Venetian poker room has 39 tables in the main room, and what is appearing to be a semi-permanent tournment area by the room entrance with another dozen or so tables. On a weekend evening, nearly every room in the place will be full, ensuring plenty of good games to choose from.  But there is always plenty of bad/drunk competition, essentially 24/7/365.

* Quality of opposition—Although the competition at the Venetian has certainly toughened up since the room opened, and is nowhere near the donkfest one might find in some of the small rooms, there are still plenty of bad players who want to try playing in such a fancy room.  Also, the drunk rich club kids coming down after partying at Tao, or rich Cali-kids looking to play some poker before going out certainly add to fish fry.

* Tournaments—The Venetian runs well-structured daily NLHE tournaments and seasonal Deep Stack Extravaganzas that offer tourney players a great value.

* Comps—What can you say?  Standard $1/hour for 1/2 NLHE, $1.50/hour for 2/5 NLHE and PLO.  But rather than being restricted to a sandwich shop or café, the comps can be used at the Grand Lux Café which offers a tasty menu sure to have something for everyone.  Not a bad reward for playing cards!

* Room discount—We got Rialto View Suites, which usually cost $299-$499 / night, for just under $100 / night, including taxes and fees.  These rooms are big and fancy, and add some fun and glitz to the experience.  But, at the discounted rate, they cost less than a Holiday Inn-level hotel in many of the towns I visit for business.

* Beverage service—Paying poker in such a nice room is fun, but for the Ironmen, the Venetian's offering of premium drinks (Red Bull-Grey Goose is the unofficial drink of IMOP) to its poker players is a major draw.

* Customer Service—The Venetian poker room management has made an effort to be friendly and welcoming to low-level players, rather than taking a snooty attitude as might be found in other "elite" rooms.  This is rather important to the Ironmen, given our rather loud, boisterous hijinks at the tables.  Also, management welcoming of low-level players only swells the Venetian's herds of donkeys.

Speaking of customer service, when I checked in, I was informed that the rooms for the others in my party were not yet available.  However, the three of us team "captains" had booked separately.  It's quite the marvel of computer programming to identify that the three of us always book rooms at the same time, during the same month, every year.  As long as they haven't figured out our inclination to drink high-end liquor ...

I also had a package with our pledge "awards" shipped to the Venetian.  Little did I realize that the Venetian's package center closed at 6:00, so when I went to pick up the package at 6:10, I was told I would need to wait until the next day.  When I explained that I needed the package that night, a front desk worker explained the situation to a manager, who then contacted security to arrange to get the package.  Now that's customer service!

Now, the Venetian isn't perfect; for starters, I'd get rid of the cloying floral perfume that assaults the nose (a serious annoyance for me as I have highly sensitive sinuses).  Also, it's not the place for cheap table games.  But overall, it's really hard to think of a better place for the Ironmen to call home.

ADDENDUM (3 March 2010):  I believe the Venetian's success has a lot to do with a great marketing concept that started before the casino opened.  To dedicate such a large area of prime casino floor space to poker without any customer base took a lot of courage.  Also, management early on made a critical decision to cater to 1/2 NLHE players, who really weren't getting much attention from the heavyweights of the day:  Mirage was fixated on its bigger LHE games, Bellagio had the Big Game and bigger stakes games, and Wynn was chasing much the same crowd.  The Venetian offered a glamorous room and a welcoming smile to the little people, who comprise a pretty large percentage of poker players.  Now the rooms which once snubbed these bread and butter customers are reluctantly retooling their marketing to try to compete with the Venetian for the 1/2 NLHE niche, while the Venetian packs in their normal crowd while still expanding into bigger games.  Based on results, Venetian has had what is quite possibly the best poker room marketing campaign of all time.