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| Nightlife!!! They call Iowa the "Miami of Middle America." Who knew? |
Every now and then you just have a series where you can't get anything going. For me it's about once a year. Last year it was Chicago. This year, it's Council Bluffs. Started off this trip with a fizzle, and it's been a slow, monotonous fizzle-out ever since. No bang.
I remember the first time I ever won a tournament and one of the dealers asking me, "So are you going to Council Bluffs now?" I just looked at him quizzically. Where the hell is that, and why on Earth would I ever want to go there?
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| This rabble rouser speeds down the hall in Council Bluffs lookin' for trouble! Slow down! Let me get a good pic, oh elusive one!! |
Sure couldn't find that spot on a map I bet! And it didn't make any sense. In the higher order of early human tribes, they just don't go chasing the Caribou around wherever the herd goes, nomadically. The more evolved tribes learned to fence-in and herd in the animals and keep them on a farm. That way, they could have nice things like houses and farms, instead of weathered teepees and tired legs. So chasing the circuit around never made much sense. But there's a lure to the howling whistle of the circus train off to parts of the world you've never seen I suppose. No matter how mundane the spot the train stops at is. Before the circuit hits New Orelans, it goes through Iowa every March/April.
Beyond poker, people keep asking me what the people are like here in the casino. I hope my pictures in this blog paint a pretty accurate picture for you all.
But the lure (and my mistake) of smaller fields and worse players seemed to be my best shot at getting another piece of WSOP bling-bling, and I couldn't resist the idea of not being in contention for a fish-in-the barrel chipfight. Note to self: you were wrong. Somehow, the fields out here have been pretty large. In Iowa?!? I think much larger than in New Orleans. I know. I can't figure that one out either. Same great staff as always, Westside Bob, Troy the Enforcer, Boz the Shrimp, Punchdrunk Charlie and Violent Chris always run a good event.
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| Popsicles in Iowa make the unbearable springtime climates of 74 degrees somehow temperate. |
There are some really good players out here. Let's call them the "sharks." Well, essentially there are two specific groups of players out here. There's the "sharks" and then there are also some really, really, really....well let's be kind. Let's just call them "Group 2." Between the two groups, I feel like I've been tied down naked with barbed wire and spun around onto a merry-go-round all week in a hailstorm of ninja stars and pus.
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| Electric carpet-speeding indoor roadsters are all the rage in Iowa! They're zippy like Luke Skywalker's land-speeder, but with wheels. |
The "Group 2" players out here seem to play poker much like a chicken plays tic-tac-toe. On meth. Everything is randomly aggressive or totally passive. They like to go all-in at totally random spots. Trying to win against them seems tantamount to having an argument with the insane. You can't win. You can only sit back and play A-B-C poker, which really puts a damper on your creativity itches. Especially when you're card dead. Then they call off their entire stacks pre-flop with hands like A-8, A-10, A-7, and wind up winning against your highly favored hands. I know luck is bunched, but these past two weeks have been like nothing goes right. Just two weeks? I consider myself VERY lucky. In fact in some ways, I'm still one of the luckiest people I know.
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| Potato sack races? That's child's play, bro! Out in "the Bluffs," it's all about turning that "walker" into a "runner!" |
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| These bad asses loiter and protect their "turf." Crips? Bloods? Hell no, G! We the Shuffleboard Mafia!! Betta recognize, playah! |
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| Takes over an hour to order liver and onions, but that's just because it's so popular! TOTALLY WORTH THE WAIT! |
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| Bobby "Sticks" McEvoy takes the lead! The crowd goes wild!!! |
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| Haute Coture in "the Bluffs." The Michael Jackson germ-mask. "Hoooooooo!!!" |
Before I forget, big congratulations to my Mississippi boys Tim Burt and David Nicholson for chopping the PLO re-buy ring event. I know Tim was looking for his fourth "official" ring, and David for his third. But they'll just have to be content with second and third place today.
Of course we're all trying to catch up with the venerable Mark Smith who set records with his FIFTH ring this year. I have to admit, I would have thought the WSOP ring record would have been higher. But then again, winning these things is incredibly hard. I'd also have to assume Tim will surpass five rings within a couple of years at the most. He's too agile and experienced in every different form of poker game out there; and the right age to pull if off. So watch your back Mark.
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| Vince Vaughn makes a celebrity appearance in Council Bluffs, Iowa, dressed for comfort and anonymity. |
In fact, it's kind of weird that I had to wait this long and travel to Iowa to pick up on one of my Mississippi buddys' crafty tricks of success. A defense mechanism of Tim and David's, when they're bluffing is to blow up -- puffer fish style -- to intimidate their opponents into folding. I caught on to this just a couple of days ago.
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| David Nicholson usually prefers plaid, but often sports a hoodie on days when "puffing" at a big pot might be necessary. |
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| Tim Burt often sports well-starched Polo shirts, but sometimes, dresses for expansion. |
So, basically, not much to report here from Council Bluffs. Just getting ready to go to bed and try to play my best tomorrow, despite my small stack. Not the size but how you use it? I guess I'll test that theory tomorrow.
Oh, well there is this one story; really an ongoing series of stories about the local gas station here called "Sapp Brothers." Monkey and I usually crash in the place right around 3 a.m., when all those living at the outer edge of society decide to get a bite to eat. Lonely truckers with voices like Wolfman Jack. Renegade truckers with zombie-like stares, and usually strapped with a knife and sporting a faraway, hopeless stare. Picture the Star Wars Cantina. But without the bouncy music. Just replace that with the scent of desparation, loneliness, and a few mumbles of stagnant conversation and dissent.
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| Staring contest!!! Aaaaaaaaand.......GO! |
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| What every trucker wants. Southern Belle dolls to have a tea party with. Notice the little doll sitting all by herself in the upper left corner. |
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| Rosa Who? |
So, the dolls alone creep you out so much, you don't even notice the "lot lizard" activity going on at the diner counter or at the fill up tank. Maybe that's why they're there. As a red herring so you totally miss the horror show going on right before your eyes. Maybe that's what the Horseshoe casino needs out here. Some dolls spread throughout the casino so you don't notice the huddled masses of old people throwing away their retirement money. More tales from the scandalous "Sapp Bros." later.
All right, you insatiable jackals, that's all for now. Hope you all had a happy Easter filled with joy and...stuff.
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| This old person thinks he can make Michael Jackson dance moves, but totally needs some jive ass threads. |
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