Wheeling Feeling, revisited!

I awake to the sounds of construction. The incessant "beep-beep" from a mini dozer backing up, syncopating the low drone of its motor. The sharp clang of metal on metal as a sledge drives something or other home. The raking sound of a shovel being dragged over gravel. Hearing is the first of my senses to come alive. The second is unfortunately that of touch. I feel a throb of pain in my head from very little sleep, and the previous nights drinking, but this can't hold a candle to the feel of the seat belt latch which has dug its way into my side. I roll over onto my back, cold, thirsty, and let my eyes open for the first time in a couple of hours. I find a frosted windshield obscures the view. Raising up a bit I can now see the workers making all the racket...outside of the Wheeling Island Racetrack and Gaming Center. The parking lot, on the back/side of the complex, is sparsely dotted with cars and trucks. There's no life in any of them. This particular pickup truck, holds two. One is I, in the front seat now struggling to put on shoes, and digging for my jacket, "frack, it's cold!" The other still lies motionless in the back seat still buried under both pillow and blanket. That's JR, or at least I think it still is. I mumble something and get out of the truck and make the short walk across the lot to re-enter the building. I know there's a bathroom around here somewhere. And coffee, yeah, coffee'd be nice. "Ugh, my head!"

Let's flashback to the evening before... (insert visions of swirly lines here)

As was noted on the River's Edge Poker Club site, we met Tuesday night at BW's for Chris' 35 birthday. Several of us, I think like 15, for dinner and drinks. Great time had by all. Big Red wants to spin! Slot time at the Eagle's. JR and I go on ahead to the Eagle's while Big Red takes the kids home. We play for a while and JR continues to badger my wife, about how close Wheeling really is, and we could be there in no time. He'd started earlier at BW's and it had just continued. Somehow, someway, he runs her out of arguments. "What're you going to do, have to call off in the morning, from work," she asks? Was that a hint of acceptance in her tone?! "Well yeah, I will," is my answer. She leaves the slot machine room, and returns in just a few minutes, with another drink for herself, and shoves a wad of 20's in my hands. "Here, be careful, and call me sometime." I'm speechless, I think JR is a little too. But, we hurry out (after I kiss her goodbye and tell her she's the best) fearful that she might come to her senses and change her mind. She didn't...and away the two of us went. In the neighborhood of 11:30-12:00, we arrive at the poker room at Wheeling Island. We get immediate seating this time, unlike the time before. Well, DUH...it is the middle of the week, this time! $200 hundred in chips each from the Cashier's Cage and away we go. I'm seeing a few hands, in the first couple of hours, some ups and downs, nothing big. I continue to get blinded off and then start to find myself coming up short on the flop and turn, and I'm blowing away $$$ on some decent hands, when they fail to connect. I take a hit, and finally find myself dwindled down to around $40. This was NOT the fargin' game plan here people. I came all this way to lose...again... Grrr! I continue to play, still just barely hanging on, and go up only slightly. Fuckit, I get involved in another hand, and flop top pair, bet out...and get raised. Shit, you're beat here cheer_dad, you know it, and you should fold, but what the heck are you going to do with this paltry sum that you have left. Sure you've got enough to call him down, and can in fact reraise all in, for like an additional $25. Screw it, if need be there's an ATM out there somewhere, and yes Big Red'll be pissed but we'll deal with that later, if necessary! I'm all in, with top pair. He insta-calls, with top 2 pair!!! Yeah I knew it was coming, and I start collecting my things. Then, the turn, offers straight and flush possibilities. Can you say STRAIGHT, boys and girls!!! Yes, I sucked out. Yes, I know it sucks. Yes, it ain't right, but man I'm due for one, and just like this, in the nick of time. And NO, I don't feel bad enough about it to give my opponent a dime of it back either. I'm back into contention in this thing. A few hands later, and I find myself up like $40 over my original buy in! Talk about dodging a bullet! In this case a bullet is what hit me filling in my straight. We continue on playing into the wee hours of the morning. I'm still up over my initial buy-in like $50-ish, when we call it a night. It's 5:30am. Sleep, comes quickly, despite the cold.
(insert visions of swirly lines here) Flashback complete...

Now, it's around 8:00am. The world continued on. I find the bathroom, and later coffee (why must it scald my tongue for Starbucks to consider it good coffee? Oh and JR calls to find out where I am. He's up too, we meet up at the poker room, and he lets me know he has Tylenol in the truck, guessing that my head is throbbing. A couple of those, nursing the coffee, I buy-in for $200 again, pleasant lady at the Cash Cage, wishes me luck. This table, for the morning session is WILD! Wow, maybe we should cover Texas Hold 'em Basics for some of these people. "...now the first 3 community cards are what's known as 'the flop'." Where did they dig these people up. And not only are they stupid...they don't know it, and some of them are lecturing others at the table who keep sucking out on others. The drunk guy on the end of the table next to JR is smack talkin' the guy sitting across from me, who I'll refer to as BMF, short for Big Mutha...F (well you get the idea.) He's taunting this mountain with arms. BMF, came to play. The cards didn't friggin' matter, not because he was skilled or anything, but apparently no one ever taught him about the virtues of folding a hand. Earlier, before the smack talk had begun, BMF got into it with an older guy, who looked a little like Sklansky to me, so mentally I gave him this nickname. He destroyed BMF on a hand, when they got into it heads up/show down/all-in with BMF quickly turning up (proudly) his straight. Sklansky, quietly puts up his BOAT. The betting and raising had been furious in that round and the pot was the proof. If memory serves correctly, a mound of well over $300 chips went from the #6 seat to the #7 seat. Oof...I need checks over here!!! BMF, opts not to wait on a chip runner and heads after another $200. He continues his donking ways, and hits some big pots, and judging from my angle it looks like he's got some of what he lost back, and is on his way back. Now, BMF, just calm down, and ride this out. But he keeps on going. He busts a couple of different guys out, who keep coming back for more. But then BMF just keeps donkin' it off to someone else. 2 particular someone else's in fact. Unfortunately, it ain't JR or me! I can't catch now to save my life. Nothin' and marginal hands are getting dropped easily when preflop raises have left the friendly stage, and are now on average 30-50 PRE-flop, in a $1/$2 NLHE game. But let's talk of some of the others at the table. The dealer's were okay, and they also agree that the California missed blind system that Wheeling opted to use, SUCKS!!! The Rain Man lady to my right who babbled on endlessly, and hacked/coughed and blew her nose, constantly, really caught JR's eye. "DEF-IN-ITELY Hold 'em, TEXAS, Hold 'em, definitely, but this is Wheeling not friggin' K-Mart." JR asked later what was wrong with her, and said he figured I was wishing I had my IPOD! Ya think!!! I think she really just caught his eye, wearing the hot blue-flannel. And the way it flitted around as she walked out of the poker room, to go smoke, was just breath-taking. Were those coke bottles, or eyeglasses? OY!!! The black lady next to her, like me was playing hooky! She left the table at one point to make a series of calls to cancel the days appointments. I was afraid to ask what kind. I guess she "could" have had clients of some sort. When she returned she continued to take every one's chips. I was keeping mine out of the middle. I could see the rush in progress. I had sense enough to stay out of the way. She was cleaning up, and must have just "felt" lucky, since she was winning with crap like 7-3c!!! Calling down 20-30 preflop bets, with crap like that. She hit the flush and tore the autistic bitch apart with it. Checks please, definitely more checks. But c'mon how confident can you feel about your 7-high flush!!! But hey, it was working for her, and that's all that matters. I just continued to bleed of my blinds and an occasional call, but the cards just weren't there, especially with the stuff that was coming out. I cashed out still up for the trip, but I was really glad to see it hit 11:30am, and that we'd agreed to leave at that time.

All in all, it was another great trip to Wheeling. I'd like to be coming out a little higher on the food chain though, in this game. So far, I just haven't hit my groove. JR and I both agree it'll be better for us when Cross Lanes opens their poker room. A little closer to home. Not as long a drive. I'm sure late night trips will be in order. Hope that sums it up for you. I'm still working on catching up on my sleep. I haven't pulled an all-nighter like this in a little while, and the older I get, the longer it seems to take for me to recover. Man I am OLD!

Anyway, don't forget kiddies, tomorrow is NDPT #11, and I have a whopping 33 people signed up to play. WOW! Bring it! 'specially the Red Snappers! Then late Saturday a contingent of us are heading BACK TO WHEELING, for an overnighter, again. If you tag along, I'll be sure to point out BMF and Rain Man. I'd stay away from both of them for different reasons. There, how's that for a trip post. As for how JR did...ask JR. That's his story...although I'm pretty sure he's up, and ready to head back this weekend. Let's do this THANG!

Regards,

cheer_dad