Paris
On our way to London for the WSOPE Jennifer and I thought we would celebrate her birthday in Paris. Great idea. Towards the end of our time there we swung by the Aviation Club to play some cards. My fi rst visit ever (and last) was way, way back in 1999 and now, nine years later, I was fi nally getting a chance to revisit. And what a tremendous pleasure it was.
By the way... before I get lost in this story I want to tip my hat to the Aviation Club. This is one squared-away joint. Back in the day smoking was allowed but no longer. As of January this year, in fact. Genius! Well, maybe not genius, but a strong move nonetheless. I remember cutting short my session back in 1999 as the smoke was too much for me, but that was then, and this is now.
Not only is it non-smoking, but the air is actually conditioned (air conditioned or ionized or something). I wouldn’t normally notice this but someone pointed the new units out to me when I commented on the clean air and I was like... holla! Shuffl e machines! Yup, they’ve got ‘em! And they sure do make life easier. They might seem like standard fare for a poker club, but sadly they still aren’t. As a regular at the Commerce and the Bellagio I am a bit spoiled so I love it when a club runs a tight operation.
Okay, before I sound like an advertisement for the Aviation Club (and no one put me up to this — honest) I want to say one more thing. They have GREAT chairs. Same type that you fi nd at the Bellagio. The awful chairs I have had to deal with in some of the home games in L.A. always make me very appreciative of fi nding places with nice ones.
But enough of pumping up the Aviation club, the real thing that makes a good club is good action. Looking around the joint I could see about fi fteen games in full swing. I was stoked to see a decent size PLO game going. There was just one small problem. I only had Bellagio fl ags with me ($5,000 chips). My wire was to London, not Paris. Playing cards here was a luxury that we just had a chance to fi t in. Arghghgh.
I wonder if they will take them? The Aviation club scored heavy again! I’m not sure if they take fl ags as an offi cial policy, but the guy in charge that night was über cool and made the exchange. So with a boatload of euros in hand, I was ready for some poker. I get in a dealer’s choice game with two games in rotation (four- and fi ve-card PLO). I will forever wonder how the heck a game as fun as PLO isn’t more popular in the U.S.. It’s the best form of poker ever... The action that ensues just crushes that of No Limit Hold ‘em. And the decision tree that goes with it blows Hold‘em out of the water.
The blinds were €20/€40 and it was fairly fast action. Lots of pre-fl op action complimented by a lot of fast, loose play. Loving it! About an hour deep into my session two of us got it all in. The fl op hit me so hard that I couldn’t lose — but I lost anyway. LOL. Reload. I made a small prayer to the poker gods asking that the game would hum along and that no one would go home. Being a lucky guy, my prayer was answered. The game continued on. Most of the time replaying hands is boring but I just have to let this one rip. It was beautiful.
Fellow in the nine-hole (three to my left) has been on a two-hour pre-fl op raising tear. It was soooo truly sick. And he couldnft seem to lose! Every pot needed a pre-fl op sweetener and every un-bet pot needed a pot-sized bet! He was determined to build those pots! The medium and short stacks knew it and played accordingly . limp reraising him with big starting hands. But to no avail. He was crushing the spirits of many as he connected with fl op after fl op. Then the following hand unfolds. It is fi ve-card PLO (same as regular PLO, only more cards to start) and the blinds are .20/.40. I was under the gun and sweetened the pot to .80 with Ah Kh Qs Jc 10h. I was hoping for his raise and then lots of callers. If there were enough I could re-pop it to the max. If there were only one or two callers then I would take a look at the fl op fi rst.
Naturally, our hero pots it to €300 and he gets three callers!! Back to me and wheeee. Time to jam it up a bit. €1,560 to be exact! I wanted to puke when he re-potted it. Wow. Aces? Isolation play? Aces? Maybe there is no need to be sick. Who knows, maybe I am winning! After all, this guy’s raising arm was out of this world. Everyone folds back to me, and I fi gure that I am easily priced in with only €3,000 euros behind. (The pot was effectively €7,380 as I didn’t have any enough to cover his pot-sized bet.)
Before the fl op is dealt I table my hand hoping he would as well. He did. And I am not feeling too good when he shows me Ac Ad 9d 7c 4s. I have no idea what this match up is... (Couldnft fi nd a poker odds calculator for fi ve-card Omaha). But at the time it felt gross. The fl op is Qh 3c 3d. I didnft need a poker odds calculator to know things were bleak. But before I could get properly sick, and really get the feel for how truly dead I was; before I could even prepare myself for the 10,380 euros to be swept over to our hero; before I could approximate the odds of winning by hitting a queen, or maybe runner-runner straight or runner-runner fl ush; before I have a chance to let the sickness pour over me . that nasty feeling of getting pwned . before any of that gross stuff happens, the dealer fi res off the turn and river. Heart, heart. It looked sort of strange having that huge pot come my way. But it felt good, thatfs for sure. Wow. I slept like a baby that night. I sucked out for a big one! 10,380 euros or 15,316 dollars!
It sure is nice to be lucky. What a great note to end our Paris leg with! We took a cab home that night. Well, to be accurate it was more like über early morning. 4:45am to be exact. After the cab dropped us off, we noticed the hunger kicking in. We opted for a walk in the hopes of fi nding some late night eats. Anything would have done.
A kabab sort of stand appeared and we were in heaven. Walking back through the sleeping city we traded our war stories. The pitter-patter of our feet echoed off the old majestic buildings and we could see our breath against the early morning chill. Walking through the sleeping streets of Paris after a successful night of gambling. I couldn’t imagine a nicer, better ending. Next stop London.
