Trip Report: Foxwoods
My day at Foxwoods (Part I)
Last week I decided to take a ride to Foxwoods to check out some of the WPT action and to try my hand at some of the Act I, II, & III satellites to the $10,000 buy-in Main Event. I live only about 15 miles from Foxwoods, so this is a trip I’ve taken many times before but never had I run into a cast of characters like I did on this day. More on that in a moment. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the WPT satellite process at Foxwoods, here is a quick breakdown:
Act I: $60 buyin, NLHE single table (10 handed) 1st, 2nd, & 3rd place receive an entry into Act II.
Act II: $150 (direct buyin or Act I qualifier) NLHE Single table. 1st place receives entry into Act III, 2nd & 3rd place receive coupon for another Act II.
Act III: $1,050 (direct buyin or Act II qualifier) NLHE Multi table. 1 in 10 gets $10,200 seat in Main Event.
As is my ritual I parked in my “lucky lot”, went in through the race book bar to see the bartender Kay, who pours a fine Sam Adams. Or maybe it just seems fine because everything tastes a little better when you buy it with Wampum Points. Who knows? So I slug down a couple of Sammies, watch some of the older folks play the puppies & ponies, get drawn into a one sided conversation about how the “fix” was clearly in on the last race at Santa Anita. Evidently one would have to be “haff retodded” to not notice that Desourmeaux was holding his mount back. OK, then.
Time for some poker.
If you’ve ever been to the poker room at Foxwoods, you know that it’s not exactly a model of organization on it’s best day. When the WPT is in town, just forget it. I walked down the ramp from the bar and was greeted by what looked like a mob fresh from looting the local Salvation Army. I don’t mind the occasional “lucky” poker shirt, but this was some eye-cramping ugly stuff.
There were actually two guys who had the same bright idea to bring their “beer helmets”. Two. There was the older woman, dressed in full Oakland Raiders team duds, desperately trying to carry her $2 yellow chips to the cage without benefit of a rack…because “racks are bad luck”. Of course there were approximately 2,400 guys in their 20s with Red Sox caps and Oakleys. Maybe 2,500. And then there were the fine folks that I sat with for an Act I.
I got very lucky and walked up to an Act I table just as they were making the final call for a guy who had put his card down at a seat but not paid. Jimmy, the cardroom Manager who does a decent job keeping things moving even though he’s desperately undermanned, stuck me right into the now open seat. I was so busy getting my card & money out, putting my drink down and getting settled that I didn’t really notice my table until the cards were being dealt. I started in late position, so I took a minute to assess the table. Oh my.
I was in seat 5. I will start with seat 1 by saying that I generally have nothing but respect for people who have chosen dealing poker as their vocation. On this day I had pity for our dealer Kwan. He was stuck next to the most obnoxious southerner since Foghorn Leghorn. He was in his 50’s, neatly dressed, well groomed, and just a total idiot. From the first hand, he did a little finger drumroll on the rail and chanted for a “big hand, big hand, come on bullets, come on cowboys!” every single time. I was reminded of Little League: “Hey batter batter batter! Su-wing, batter!”
To Foghorn’s left was an Asian guy that I will call Slicky Boy. Not because I am racist, but because he had a neck chain for his sunglasses that said “Slicky Boy” on it. He WAS slick, too, he could shuffle chips with both hands at the same time, which as Dutch Boyd would tell you is a very good way to intimidate your opponents. I was almost too scared to enter a pot with Slicky Boy.
In seat 3 was “Confused Old Man”. I know it sounds mean, but the guy was easily in his 70’s and didn’t seem to know exactly where he was. Now I have been knocked off of final tables by even older guys at Foxwoods, most notably an ancient shark I have dubbed “High Socks”…but that is for another story. This gentleman never once put up his blind without being asked, nor did he ever call or raise without first consulting the dealer. But he sure did call a lot.
Seat 4, to my right, was a generic Red Sox fan. Typical 20-something, shades, a few chip tricks, not very talkative but when he did talk it was about how he would have played a given hand. I guess he was kind of a “Quiet Coach”. He also told me a couple of times “I knew he had ___”
To my left, seat 6, was “In a Hurry Guy”. This fella was about 45 or so, with a golf shirt that should have been buttoned and a big puff of salt & pepper chest hair supporting a gold medallion only slightly smaller than a manhole cover. He was agitated with “Confused Old Man” from the get-go. “Call, raise, or fold! How hard is that?!” He was in such a hurry, he would look at his cards as soon as he got them (one at a time, even) and make it known to anyone paying attention exactly what he was going to do when his turn came up. If he was going to fold, he’d sit impatiently waiting with his thumb & forefinger on his cards ready to toss them into the muck. If he was going to call, he would put the necessary amount on top of his cards and wait to call. If he was going to raise, he put one chip on top of his cards and shuffled the rest eagerly. He was a real mystery. Did I mention his pinky ring?
Seat 7 was perhaps the most interesting character of all, yet he was gone in 3 hands. He was a younger “Uncle Jesse” from Hazard County, complete with bib overalls & flannel. Unfortunately, he re-raised Slicky Boy all-in from the cutoff, proclaiming “I think yer on overcards, son.” Slicky boy in fact had 2 overcards, both Kings…and Uncle Jesse and his pocket nines were shuffling off to find another Act I. Uncle Jesse we barely knew ye….
Seat 8 was John Leguizamo. O.K. maybe it wasn’t John Leguizamo, but this dude sure looked and acted like him. Totally manic, couldn’t sit still, couldn’t shut up, flashed his cards often, hit on the waitresses…Thankfully he kept taking “bathroom breaks”. During one break he even went to the snack bar for a powdered donut. (At least that’s what that looked like just under his nose)
Well, ol’ John came running back to the table during his big blind just in time to re-raise “In a Hurry Guy” who was obviously trying to steal. Leguizamo went all in, which I guess “in a Hurry Guy” thought was a re-steal, because he called the all-in with JcTc and was crippled by Leguizamo’s pocket tens.
Seat 9 was a solid guy who I have played with before. He and I managed to share a few eyerolls and smirks at the play & characters on the table, at least until his AKs went up against Foghorn’s pocket 4’s. The flop came K88 rainbow, Foghorn bet the minimum and seat 9 raised him all in. He called. Turn was a brick, and of course the river was 4, causing Foghorn to let out a Rebel Yell that turned heads all over the room.
Seat 10 was a tourist from Maryland who seemed to enjoy the lingo, but didn’t really have the grasp of it. For one thing, he thought “The Nuts” was another way to say AA. “I haven’t had the nuts in like 300 hands, where’s them rockets?!” He also said that this was the first “Ring Game” he had ever played, but that he was up late the night before playing 4/8. Hmmmmm. I was able to knock out the tourist when I flopped the nut straight from the BB with T8…flop came 679 rainbow, he had A9o and got overzealous. But he did mention that he was “happy to get my money in with a great hand”. A9o: The newest “Great Hand”.
I managed to knock out “Confused Old Man” a couple of hands later when he called down my trips relentlessy on a flush draw that didn’t pan out, and I even got ol’ Foghorn a few hands later when he limped with AA, allowing me to catch a set of sixes on the flop. I raised him all in after his pot-sized bet. He called and flipped his cards all in the same motion. He was so very proud of his rockets and his sneaky limp in, he didn’t even seem to notice that I had a set. He said “Only sixes?” and then looked again at the flop…it finally dawned on him, and he started to get upset only to be cut off by the “Quiet Coach” who informed him that slow playing aces was a “calculated risk”.
By then I had plenty of chips to just coast into the final 3, but I did get to watch an epic hand between Coach & Slicky Boy. Coach was in the BB, Slicky had raised about 5x BB, Coach flat called. Flop came AJT, all spades. Coach checked, Slicky put him all in, Coach called in record time.
Slicky flips over red aces for a set, Coach flips over AcKs for top pair/top kicker and a monster draw
The turn is a miracle 2 of spades for Coach, making the nut flush.
The river was a miracle 2 of hearts for Slicky, giving him the boat & the win.
I ended up moving on to an Act II, along with Slicky & Leguizamo, but that story is for another day. Thanks for reading!
Rick Skog
