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Trip Report

by Bill Alan

One of my top three RGP pals, Arti Santella, and I left Arti's house in Norwalk, CT, at 9 AM on Thursday, March 23 bound for ATLARGE '00 and four days of fun & poker.

In that precise order.

If you've never been in a car with Arti for several hours you will have missed one of life's great treats. He can speak to just about any subject and the time flies. Of course, what also flies is the "f" word, which, to Arti, is essentially verbal punctuation. By the time we crossed the Hudson I had counted at least 19 permutations of this ubiquitous word . . . 18 of which are either physically impossible or linguistically inappropriate.

My kind of guy!

We arrived at The Trop in due course and, as is our custom, went directly to the Poker Room while our room was being made up. Bad mojo from the start, as I got involved in a $10-$20 holdem game which did not provide me with one playable hand for an hour and a half. (- $230, all but one hand in blinds)

The usual early crowd (Foldem, Robert Hwang, etc.) were there when we got there and we shook welcome hands all around.

Sad (for us) news from Foldem . . . he has retired from F.I.T. and is relocating to the Bay Area. Our major loss; their major gain. Peter is hoping to set himself up as the owner of a small card room. (To be called . . . what else? . . . "Foldem's".) I was quite surprised to learn from Peter that a very small card room (even just one table) can make a profit. But, of course, "small" means very hard work and long hours for the proprietor.

If anyone I know can make it work Peter can. For my money he is the most universally liked person in RGP and his card room will be a "bees to honey" one, especially with all his close poker friends in the area. I don't think he aspires to a giant Gardena-like operation, but I can easily envision an eventual 20-or-so-table room where Peter's splendid personality can be felt in every part of the operation. If I were a betting man I would seek to be an early investor. (Hey . . . what the hell? I am. So perhaps I will.)

After my slow start in $10-$20 I decided to back off to a lower stakes game. No point in blowing too much too soon. So I played a little $5-$10 for a small profit and finally got up to our room about 4 PM. But not B4 I made my first of many swings by the dice table, where I had a decent score and got back all of my holdem losses and then some.

The poker-rated room ($49 on week days, more on Friday & Saturday nights) was only "adequate". I am not a frequent AC visitor ever since Foxwoods opened up so I don't have any basis for comparisons, but you can get a lot more for your money at Foxwoods (during tournament week and FARGO). Room service absolutely sucks. I paid nearly $30 for a modest breakfast on Friday and the eggs were cold. However, the location in the South tower made up for it . . . down in the elevator and you are right at the back entrance to the poker room.

The first major event of the weekend was the Smoker at The Old Waterway Inn. With many people yet to arrive in town and a continually growing reluctance to poison one's lungs we had only 12 people in attendance. But, needless to say, those present were the usual suspects . . . all major fun seekers . . . and the evening was a great success. I pigged out with a decent Pouilly Fuisse to accompany my baked clams appetizer and incredibly good Chesapeake Bay crab entre and the tab came to only a little more than $50 apiece for the 12 of us. Far cry from the $100+ I spent at Fiore during BARGE '98. Without Nolan there to assume the risk of setting the over/under on the bill, Foldem handed it with his usual good sense: We all put $5 and a number on slip of paper and the $60 went half to the winner and half to Kevin, our waiter (who had already been generously toked on the total bill). I forget who won.

Back to the Trop where, because of heavy drinking earlier, I played only low stakes holdem. In a $5-$10 game late at night I was getting nothing but rags but they weren't hurting me too much. At 3 AM, stuck for about $300, my body required sleep. So I made a promise to myself to play around to my blinds and leave. All of a sudden the table turned toward me and I had an incredible run. I was playing anything just to see the flop. Among other hands of note I held a pair of 3's and flopped the other two. Then I held a pair of ducks and flopped a full house. No skill here . . . just the poker gods smiling. I finally did go to bed at 7 AM up $800. That's a swing of $1100 in just 4 hours. That, as we all know, is NOT supposed to happen.

Arti, who I had not seen since 2 PM yesterday, quietly left the room and let me sleep until about 3 PM B4 he called me to come down for the Trop's $100 + $15 no limit holdem tournament. (That's when I had my room service $30 eggs-over-easy. Sheesh.) I had a pretty good run in the tournament but ended up finishing in the middle of the pack. Not surprising since I was wedged in between two of the best players in the game . . . Greg Pappas to my right and Jimmy Boyd to my left. Jim was there just for the day since he was headed out for the big one at Tunica. He and I go way back together to the early days at Foxwoods annual tournaments and I was sorry to hear that he wouldn't favor us with his company for the entire weekend. I will get no dispute when I say that Jim Boyd is arguably the best liked guy in professional poker.

I played heavily in the pink game for awhile where, as Arti pointed out to me, "It is alright to lay down a hand now and then." But then grave misfortune visited me.

I bought into the baby pot limit game ($1 - $2 - $5 to go, aka "Jazbo's Game"). There was a lot of talent in the game, mainly Sippy. I had not seen him since ATLARGE '97 at Resorts, where I voted him the best holdem player in the group. One would think that a kind gesture such as that on my part might cause Sippy to go a little easy on me . . . but it was not to happen.

On my last hand I was well ahead and I came up with 10's full of my hole card Aces on the turn . . . the nut full house. The pot at that point was about $500 and I was first to bet. Naturally I bet it all. Everyone folded except Sippy who came over the top of me, putting me all in. Needless to say he held the only card that could beat me . . . a 52-to-1-shot case 10. I was so miserable that I didn't even check to see if he did a river suckout on me. But knowing Sippy I doubt that he did, since the turn card was a 10. Sippy thinks it was less than this (and I respect his superior RAM-based intellect) but I think I had about $1500 in that pot.

Double sheesh!

Then to the crap pit with the regular ARG junkies . . . Foldem, Jester, et al. I'm not sure if it was at this session, but we had a bunch of people with us who were (a) intent upon learning the game or (b) on our growing list, mainly female, of craps groupies who were only there to be able to brag the next day that they "played with the stars".

Memory fails me, but I believe the "a" group included Bob Dainauski (Polski, yadje masjh) who was my pupil. I hope he came away from the session winners, but more importantly I hope he learned the very simple basic rules of winning craps . . .

1. Make ONLY line (or come) bets and take maximum odds.
2. NEVER play any bet in front of the stickman (the "proposition" bets).
3. NEVER place a number except 6 or 8, if one of them becomes the point. (And the latter is only marginally OK)
4. If you MUST place any other number (NOT recommended) you should "buy" it. Among the "b" group was Alan Richman's charming S/O, the lovely Nanette (aka "No No") who was destined for finer things on Saturday night at the banquet. If I were 30 years younger I would kill for Nanette.

   Saturday Morning.

   Since writing Part I of this endless trip report I have read a couple of others written by people who wondered how some of us get up bright & early after a late night/early morning's carousing.

   The answer is disarmingly simplistic. We just don't go to bed.

   It's hardly the best preparation for a major tournament, but a worse mistake would be to go to bed about 5 AM with a wake-up call for 8. Warm engines start up much more quickly than dead ones do.

   So I played through the wee hours and woke Arti up at 8 AM because I was not about to spring for another $30 breakfast and you can trust Arti to know where the good values are. He led me to the boardwalk and a 3-minute walk to starboard took us to the coffee shop at the neighboring Holiday Inn. We enjoyed a splendid full breakfast which cost about $12 for both of us.

   Back in time for the no-limit holdem event . . . my best game. I had an agreement with T.K. that he would nudge me if I began to slump over on my hole cards but it turned out to be unnecessary since I tapped out rather early. Bad cards, not bad living, were my downfall. (That's my story . . . and I'm sticking to it!)

   Then, because I had earned it, I was finally off to bed for a 3-hour snooze, waking up in time for a long hot soak (bummer: no Jaccuzzi) and a cold shower and then off to the banquet.

   Many of you know me as a Wild Turkey guy but when I want to fire for effect it is always a Martini.

   There's something about a Martini, A tingle remarkably pleasant. A yellow, a mellow Martini, I wish that I had one at present. There's something about a Martini, Ere the dining & dancing begin. And to tell you the truth, it's not the Vermouth; I think, perhaps, it's the Gin.

   - Ogden Nash

   Arti, who I swear was not sucking up to get my vote for the ADBs, was plying me with Stoli Martinis . . . since I was sticking to my vow to give up gin for Lent. We had a swell table, mostly ADBs plus a couple of hopefully surprised new inductees. Apart from subs/grinders/hoagies/po boys etc. I am not big on Italian food. And, to me, chicken is more of an adjective than a noun. So, after a polite bite or two, I passed my plate over to Arti . . . who commenced to eat two dinners, his & mine. He farted a lot that night and bored everyone at breakfast with his endless stories about the damage he had done to his gastrointestinal system. You have to pay the fiddler Arti!

   The highlight of the evening, as at all ATLARGE banquets, was the recognition given to all those who helped make it happen: The very lovely Kate Dumas, the cute & charming Patrice Munafo, Tiger, Foldem, and of course T.K.

   A word here about T.K. I've been at this game longer than most of you have been alive and I have never known a finer floorperson than our Tommy. Apart from keeping everything running smoothly & fairly, he makes you feel like you are his most important player. I had met him only once B4, but he remembered my poker name, my legal name (William Alan Hafey), my home address (right down to the street number) and the fact that I was a holdem player. What a guy!

   Attention Trop Management: Take notice of this fine employee.

   There were enough ADBs present to form a minyan and we met briefly to name three new ADBs . . . the most ever, I am told, to be inducted at one ARG event. All of them have demonstrated the necessary qualities and we welcome . . .

   Nanette Merkelis . . . . . . ADB "No No"
   John Luckini . . . . . . . . . ADB "Luke"
   Arthur Santella . . . . . . . ADB "Arti"
   

   Kate & her staff handed out nice gifts to all present and a fine time was had by all.

   Back, then, to the tables. I don't take good notes and, for some odd reason, I am not quite sure what I did on Saturday night. Suffice it to say that it was either poker or craps. Somewhere in there a bunch of the more durable fun seekers (all, as I recall, ADBs) repaired across Atlantic Avenue to a seriously dumpy watering hole where we commenced to solve most of the present day problems of the planet and beyond. Dave Trinidad (ADB "Iceman") made us all turn green with envy as he described how he traveled to ATLARGE . . . in his own airplane. I beat Nolan out of three bucks on an easy movie trivia question. Bruce Kramer, to our delight, explained (albeit unsuccessfully) the meaning of life. The lady bartender was in possession of the largest pair of tits I have ever seen, causing several of us to have impure thoughts. Arti had not yet begun to fart all night long. All in all, a fine time was had by everyone in attendance.

   Eventually Foldem, Jester, and I made our way back to the dice tables where, at one point, I got myself totally tapped out. I went looking for an ATM until I realized that I had left my debit card in the room. But Jester was kind enough to take my marker for $500 and I was able to begin my long crawl back to a decent playing stack for our final day.

   Sunday Morning Coming Down.

   Well I woke up Sunday morning With no way to hold my head it didn't hurt.

   And the beer I had for breakfast tasted good So I had one more for desert.

   I reached into my closet for my clothes And found my cleanest dirty shirt.

   Then I brushed my teeth and combed my hair And stumbled down the stairs to greet the day.

   - Kris Kristofferson

   Prior to an early 9 AM start of the stud poker tournament many of us gathered in the lounge just outside the poker room to have coffee, juice, and what they laughingly presented as croissants. BS and bad beat stories prevailed. A quiet young man name of Bob Baugh asked Arti and me if we would mind him sitting with us. Mind? Hell, we were glad to see him. We had already "sang up every song we ever knew" (KK again.) Bob told us this was his first ARG event so Arti & I pointed out some of the poker luminaries in the room . . . Herbie Allen, Greg Pappas, Steve DelBorell, Bud Frampton, Tom McHugh, etc . . . and introduced him all around. Bob may go back home proud to have met some of these people, but a few years from now he might very well be one of them himself. The Bob Baughs of year 00 are going to be the future of poker folks.

   On to the stud tournament. I played well, but stud just isn't my game. So I finished in the middle of the pack again and wandered off to where the smoking lamp was lit. Congratulations are due to the organizers for making the tournaments non-smoking. It is the correct thing to do and those of us who have the foul habit seemed not to mind it at all. We will observe the same rule at FARGO in October just as we did last year.

   Since it is still morning another nap was in order. But I had some personal business to discuss with Nolan and that led to an invitation to join him, Bruce, and Dave Trinidad for lunch at a nearby Italian restaurant. Nolan ordered a garlicky white pizza with broccoli and insisted I have a taste. Since my system rejects all leafy vegetables, I brushed them off (Nolan asked if I would brush them ON to the remaining pie!) and tasted the best pizza I have had in years.

   Then to my nap. I got about 4 hours in . . . my longest single sleep break of the weekend . . . then back to the tables. Nothing spectacular to report as I was not going to attempt to get well again at poker. However I managed a small win (about $400) which helped a little.

   At dinnertime many of the punters had left and there were only a few of us left for our last night at The Trop. I had business to discuss with Jester so I invited him to dinner at Pier 7, the better seafood restaurant right next door. I eat little else but seafood during Lent, but the Tournedos sounded tempting and proved to be the best I can remember having in recent years. Prices were a tad lower than the A.C. Steakhouse and we greatly enjoyed a bottle of "off campus" Bordeaux (i.e. NOT LaFitte or Mouton) from the vineyards of Baron Rothschild. I highly recommend everything about this small restaurant.

   Then, finally, our last visit to the dice tables. Jester, Foldem, and Y.O.S. We were not making much of a score after the first hour or so and Foldem left to try his luck elsewhere. Suddenly the table turned golden. In a half-hour I had made enough to pay back my $500 marker to Jester and we just kept rolling and winning. Both of us were playing $10 line bets backed up with $50 odds, plus one or two similar come bets, on every hand. I ended up plus > $1000, and Jester must have done about the same.

   Back to the poker room for one last effort. I played $10-$20 holdem until about 3 AM and closed out my gambooling weekend with a net loss of only ~ $500, much of which was actually eaten up by cash outlays and tokes. Considering that I was stuck by > $3K at one point I thought I had done quite well for the weekend.

   To bed early, then a quick room service continental breakfast of O.J., croissants, & lots of coffee. $12 plus tip. I am in the wrong business.

   The trip home was uneventful. With gas prices being at an all-time high, I thought it fair that I should spring for a decent dinner so I suggested the "21" Club in NYC. Arti, however, opted for his favorite . . . the last Burger King on the GSP. I must say that the Double Cheese Whopper was perhaps the best I have ever tasted . . . done medium rare, as ordered. Good choice Arti!

   We hit no traffic to speak of and were back to Arti's seaside home in Norwalk by suppertime. Arti showed me his "communications center" in the basement, which complimented his massive antenna array on the roof. (Arti must have serious juice with the local zoning board in this ultra rich Gold Coast town.) I felt as if I was in command central. Posted around the room were call signals and memorabilia from people all over the world that Arti talks with regularly. Among them was a handsomely framed 8x10 glossy inscribed to Arti by the late King Hussein of Jordan, a prominent ham radio guy is his time.

   Then 70 miles more to my home in Avon, CT, and the end of the best ATLARGE weekend ever.

   Bill Alan
   Organizer Emeritus, FARGO

   Addenda:

   It was good to see Jazbo at the holdem tournament. We mustn't forget that he is the originator of "off Broadway" BARGE-like events. His pioneering of ATLARGE in 1996 has led to FARGO, ESCARGOT, MARGE, SARGE, and now CARGO . . . a poker cruise to the Western Caribbean in September. I confidently expect that these regional events will be expanded to many more, giving all of us many opportunities to enjoy the camaraderie started by Mike Zimmers et al at BARGE.

   Also Will Espin, for whom The Trop created a special commemorative $5 chip. We all wish you good health, Will, and hope we will see you on a regular basis in the future.