Grand Final Trip Reports

[AceLosesKing]

I'll be hitting 5k, easily.

[Scotty]

Break it up into chapters then

[trishan]

I'll be hitting 5k, easily.

Symbolic of what you have won? Or perhaps the number of times people have misspelt Kleeemaannn

[Scotty]

Seriously, how hard is it to get his name right.

Aaron Coleman.

[David]

What you talkin' 'bout Scott

[Brett Kay]

God, i still have to write mine up. . too much to say. And with bragging rights on word count. LOL.

[AceLosesKing]

I hope you all enjoy text.

- Thursday night -

As a lot of you know, I am a very open person. My heart is an open book, I've had a lot of dnm's with the most of you. I can quite easily have a conversation about anything with someone I am comfortable with. I probably put across too much information on Facebook So, if this TR is too personal for some, let me know and I'll edit it accordingly. We should be ok though.

I hear early in the week about the boys plans for a trip to the Adelaide Casino, to meet up with Brett Kay. The history between Brett and I is long and boring, so I won't waste time here. Needless to say I was primed to finally meet the man that I consider a good friend. But alas, I am stuck with work on the Thursday night, a 10.30pm-2.30am shift. I never really considered changing the shift, and didn't have the money for a big night out so I never considered going.

Then Dave IM's me around 6pm.

"Come to the casino!"
"Can't, work."
"come on "

Hell, why not.

So I load up Hotmail and send out an email to my 50 or so coworkers. A 4h time frame to cover a shift isn't enough, so I throw in a $15 bonus. A few hours later and its 8pm. I up my bonus to $30 - chatting with Dave about the night has made me restless. I want this badly. Finally, at 9pm, a coworker responds, he'll do it! Awesome! I throw down the laptop and shower/shave. I send Scott a text and find out if the night is going to run on... it is. I don't want to head down only to find out they're calling it a night in an hour or two. I organise to stay at Dave's house/catch the 6am train back, depending on how the night goes.

I spend the train ride down messaging peeps, find out who's there/who's in town so we can catch up. There is an odd moment when the small crowd gets off at Adelaide that, when we're all standing by the door, we glance over at a man that's fallen asleep. I know that everyone knows he's asleep, yet no one moves to wake him up. Finally I start to make a move over, but someone at the end of the carriage is already halfway there.

I find the pit, and a PLETHORA of 888pl crew. Players, TDs, friends... they're all here. Brett eyeballs me from across the room and heads over, we exchange pleasantries. He looks different to what I expected. But the same nice guy. The wait for the "forum table" isn't as long as expected. I sit down and the usual banter begins. "Oh, you have shoes, who did you steal them off," "how did they let you in with no ID" etc etc.

Then I hear the stories of the night. Des is up. Bacon is down. Rcon limps 56o from the CO Caleb sits down and is playing any two. Like, literally the first ten hands I think he folds one preflop - and takes most down post. Glyn sits in and 3b's my first open. I want to 4b shove, lucky I don't, as the man has QQ, flops top set and stacks some d0nk in the hand.

I lose one buyin playing AA like a retard.

So -$100 on the night. After an hour or so on Casino War, I am +$10 up I love War. By this time a few of the forum lads are starting to head off, so Bacon, Brett, Dave and I roam around the pits for a few hours. This is around the time all three of those lucky bastards proceed to get straight flushes in 3card poker. Its awesome to see. After a few hours, we all leave, tired. Brett has work tomorrow, remember. Dave, Brett and Bacon are all up on the night, quite well in fact. I leave -$15 down, happy with that.

On the drive home Dave and I discuss steamed vegetables, and how that even if he's not hungry, if he goes through the Macca's drive through, he has to get something. I get that. I laugh at Bacon's number plate - "Bacon" (or something similar, I forget atm. I did lol though). Dave calls his car "the Baconmobile." Also funny. We head into Dave's house, it now drawing upon 3am. Brett and Dave pretty much head straight into bed. I load up Stars and single table NL25 6max. Within a few hours I am up 1.5BI. By now, the time is 6.15am. Ok, 15 more minutes, I tell myself. At 6.28am I am sitting on a stack of $24.60. I curse my bad play and head into bed.

- Friday -

I wake up around 11am. Dave is back from his haircut appt already, and is grinding a few .50/$1 Omaha tables on Tilt. The plan for the day is to head down to Gawler at some point, pick up my stuff and kill time until the party. Dave brings out the Mistress Poker shirts - looking snazzy as usual. Scott pops in and the two brothers have a chat. Scott has some black balla shirt on that obv looks killer. Dave remarks that his new shirt looks similar to the one MP have designed. We organise to head around to the shirt store, pick up the designs and drop them round Scott's later (who is still busy moving into Nathan and Emily's place).

On the drive to Gawler, Dave and I basically spend the entire trip checking out the ladies that are wearing sweet f all in this warm heat. It is a good day. Within the hour I've collected all my belongings and we're on the way back to Modbury. Not having eaten yet, we stop off for Subway. Dave heads to a coffee shop he visits frequently. This place must have some sort of hiring policy, because every chick here is SMOKING. Like, drop dead gorgeous. Another highlight of the day. At Subway, I'm asked if I want salt and pepper on my footlong - I quite clearly say no. The young kid then proceeds to throw a bunch of pepper on my sub - at first I speak up, he asks what's wrong and I say never mind. Its not a big deal. Dave notices this too and says that if he was in my position, he would let it go. I agree. Like I, he would be too embarrassed to ask the kid to make it again - which is well within his rights, mind you. "Of course someone like Pete would turn around and politely tell the kid to throw the f*cking sandwich in the bin and start again."

After picking up the MP shirts (which look SICK, you've all seen them by now anyway) we decide to kill some time at Scott's new place. I am interested to check his place out. The new house... wow. This place is epic. I'm getting a very 2m2mm vibe - poker players living in a mansion that is too big for them. You could literally have a party in the hallway. 2 story, balcony... I'm surprised they don't have a tennis court out back. Soon enough, I guess.

I try some new brand of beer that surprisingly, I don't hate. I forget what its called, Scott would know. We discuss table positions and general strategy for the tournament. The general consensus is to find the weakest players in the first hour, and continually pummel their blinds. Its around this time that we hear that Shaun Tait and Darren Lehmann will be attending the GF, which is of course, awesome. Its a shame that Shaun Tait never made an appearance, but it was still nice to meet Boof.

Dave and I head back to his to prepare for the party. I find that the shirt I've brought is a little dirty, but nothing horrible. I make an attempt at ironing, and do a moderately admirable job. Its not perfect, but seeing as my previous iron experience was using the word in the joke "the ironing is delicious" I am quite pleased. I do hate the fact that I don't have some snazzy shoes on, though.

Pete picks us up, and I hear stories from their drunk adventures. Andrew head locking Pete in the window, while he threw up all over himself, is a pearler. "Corn is for n*ggers" is also quite excellent, which I won't repeat here as you've probably all heard this already. About halfway through the trip, I realise that I'm bursting for the toilet. The last 10m to the club is easily the most excruciating car ride I've ever been in. When Pete finally does find a park (right out front btw, well done sir) I bolt into the club, running past Matt Porter and a few other friends I know.

After reliving myself (omg, so good) I head into the bar to get wasted, as I am a quite nervous about the possibility of having to give a speech tonight (stutter + public speaking = FTL). I down 3 jagerbombs within 10 mins. I meet up with Trishan and Mike, who both shock me with their appearances. I expected Trishan to be like his online persona, very brash and in your face. Instead, the lad is quite reserved and respectful - which I guess is to be expected, coming from an Indian background. I mean no disrespect here Trishy, it was just a bit of a shock to find out you were so different.

Mike... is a barrel of laughs. The man is full of such energy! Always smiling and cracking jokes. I love his enthusiasm. We quickly talk up a storm, 888pl, the Dream Team race, poker in general... the works. So the night is wearing on and I am drinking more and more. I realise that at some point I will have to slow down, as I am playing in the most important tournament of my life tomorrow. But not yet, I'm having too much fun!

At some point, the call is made for Dream Team presentations to be made. I down another jagerbomb and listen to Warney spout some crap about being Team Captain for 888 and how he loves the opportunity to play in this tournament... general PR stuff. DT winners are about to be announced, so I wait near the podium. To my surprise, my name is called first. I assumed that 888pl would be working from 20th to 1st, seeing as no one had been given their cheques yet. But this wasn't the case, and I stumble up on stage with my goofy grin. When Warney shakes my hand he exclaims to me "oh no, we're on the same table! god..." I laugh, hoping to take all his chips because he overvalues top pair no kicker.

Apparently I dropped my cheque on stage, and Garry Nicholson had to stuff it in my pocket. I hope this was captured on camera, as that will be hilarious. I meet the other DT winners (RoyTrudgey is totally what I expected ), take congratulations... etc. So, the main festivities of the night are over and I can commence to drinking, holla! I have some more drinks, meet some fantastic people and let myself go. While trying to hug Thommo later in the night, I wack my head into the TV display set up by the feature table. It is because of my idiocy that tape is attached to the bottom of all the TVs (at least that's my story, and I'm sticking to it).

Sometime around 11pm, I decide to stop drinking - I am playing for $30,000 tomorrow. Eventually Dave decides that its time for to head home, and we all pile into old man Swanky's car (Pete included) for a trip home. The ride home is quite entertaining, especially with Dave yelling at randoms while smashed. By the time we get in, Brett is home. We all sit up for a while discussing 888pl, pub poker in Australia and the general direction its going. Dave and Brett seem content to keep the conversation flowing, so around 1.30am I head to bed, knowing that it will take me at least another hour to fall asleep - and I'm running on 5h from the night before.

- Saturday -

Of course I am still wide awake at 3am.

I doze off, and wake up at 5am. My mind is racing, I can't sleep. It is around this time that I write up this fantastic piece. Scott and I chat back and forth over Facebook, he can't sleep either. Any new post on the forum/Facebook is dissected by the two of us within minutes. I contemplate multi tabling for a few hours on Stars, but I want to go into the GF totally refreshed, not wondering about the morning's hands/losing sessions etc. So I sit, waiting.

Its around 7am that Dave crawls out of bed.

"Dave!"
"Ugh."
"How you feeling?"
"Still drunk from last night. The hangover hasn't even hit me yet."

Apparently Dave ended up drinking some Port while talking with Brett last night He isn't feeling too flash, and hops in the shower to refresh. I'm still bouncing around like a bunny. I crank some Wii Sports (after creating my own awesome looking Mii) and easily smash Dave's pathetic attempts at high scores. Still, the wait for 10am is too long! Dave pops around Andrews "for 5 minutes" and I am left to my own devices. Brett wakes up from his beauty sleep. We converse about the day ahead.

An hour later, Dave finally heads back. He says that Andrew is in tow, and will be taking us to the club today. I am yet to eat breakfast - Dave promised us bacon and eggs Soon enough, Andrew pops in, still looking like Ilari Sahamies. We talk about the day, the feature table, Warney... etc. I am still pumped. Andrew seems nonchalant.

The drive to the club is much more satisfying, as my bladder isn't about to burst. But it still feels like a 2h trip. Lets do this already! Finally, the club is within my sights. I spot numerous 888pl players getting out of their cars and walking into the club. Some friends, some new faces. After greeting Garth outside, I head in to get some food. I meet up with Mike, Trishan and Fleur (who I had the pleasure of meeting last night). I buy some $5 burger that is lukewarm... but does the job. My belly can rest, satisfied that at least for the first few hours of the tournament, he will not be bothering me.

And onto the tournament we go! I find my seat at the feature table and set up my mp3 player. A quick glance around the table and there are only a few players I don't recognise. The only player I am wary of, Tom "Nitro" Jenkins, is stuffed down the other end of the table. I am happy about this, as I have heard what a problem he can be to deal with. But I knew this going in, anyway.

Warney is sitting down, sunglasses at the ready. Oh how I can't wait to take pot after pot off him - and its not long before I do. 25/50. UTG, Nitro minraises. Warney, on his immediate left, calls. It folds to me in MP, I look down at two red Kings. I decide on my 3b size, and go with 750. Folds around to Nitro, who mutters something about wanting to call... but he lets it go. Warney calls, fairly quickly. All I'm hoping is that an Ace doesn't fall on the flop.

The flop comes KQ6r. Holla! Warney checks. Now while I am holding the absolute nuts, I still want to bet to get a call from all straight draws, and Qx. I bet 1150. Warney picks up 3k in yellow chips, and throws it into the middle. Right now I'm putting him on 66, or complete air. I think he calls with all middle pair hands, and raises the rest. Obv this line with a King makes sense, but its a bit hard for him to have that. I ask how much the raise is... and the table tells me its a call. What?

"Oh he said call."
"Yes I heard him say call."
Warney: "Yeah I'm calling mate."

This totally throws me off, what is he doing. At any rate, the turn is dealt: Ac. The SECOND the Ace falls, Warney drops his head and checks slowly. I know that if I fire on this card, he will let go of most one pair hands. So I check back, feigning weakness. The river is an inconsequential 3. Warney checks again. I decide on my bet sizing, and land on 2600 - about half the pot. I want a call from any Queen. Warney goes into the tank. After about 3m, he announces raise. Instantly I decide that depending on bet size, I might let this go. This is just a weird spot for a bluff, and I hated the way he reacted to that turn.

Warney min raises me. Well, it doesn't really make sense, but I don't want to 4b shove and be snapped by JT, so I just call. Obv I am not folding. I announce call, and Warney rolls KJo - um, ok. I don't really see what I fold to a minraise on the river there, except a Q. I am calling with all Kings and Aces. I show down my top set and let the table know that I'm not messing around.

Later on I pick up QThh UTG. As I had been doing with most pots, I opened. I did not want to be known as a player that would limp. I wanted to be raising hands, or folding them. And yes, I know opening QTs UTG isn't standard. So I open to 325 at 50/100. I have around 5 callers - which isn't horrible for my hand, its not like I would've been ahead to much anyway.

The flop is a beauty, 975hh. BB leads 200 into a 900~ pot. I decide that raising with just a Q high flush draw and 4 behind isn't optimal, so I call. Warney comes along too.The turn is the Js - another lovely card. BB checks, and my read tells me that if I bet pot, he will fold. So I lead for 1500 and Warney is the only caller. I am certain that any Q, T, K, 8 or heart will have the hand won for me. The river is the Kc. I have the absolute nuts. I lead for 3700 and Warney heads into the tank.

"I have my favourite hand, wow." Oh god, what's his favourite hand? I hope its KJ, or a pocket pair that hit a set. Warney tanks nigh on 5 mins, rolls JTo, and folds. He asks me to show, I smile and rake in the pot. BB in the hand tells me that he "had K9 and had the winning hand" (two pair). Damn you, why didn't you stay in the pot! So around this stage I am sitting on 30k~ and feeling really good. Warney is already down to 8k~. Then Nitro comes to the table. This kid is either limping or opening every pot - he folds maybe 3 hands in an hour. And it doesn't matter, because he has the aggression and skill to outplay the entire table postflop. Nitro and Warney tangle quite frequently. In a hand that was called over the microphone, Warney puts it in with KQ on a KJ9r flop, into AK and Nitro's K9. Nitro tank folds, and as we know, Warney ships a T on the river to survive. Which I am quite happy to see, as I want one of the worst players at the table to have more chips - and with our history, I am confident I can come out on top again.

At the first break I am sitting on 28k. The average is 21k, so I'm quite pleased. A little annoyed at how I played the final hand, but feeling good. I decide during the break that I need to stay away from Nitro as I do not have the skill or chipstack to outplay him postflop - he is just owning my soul all day. During the break I meet up with friends and forget to eat. We talk about general play, hands, bad beats... the usual. You all know what its like. Soon enough we're heading back into the room for another 3 levels.

I proceed to go insanely card dead. The only notable hand I pick up is AThh, which I 3b shove all in vs Nitro on a 632hh board. He says he has 8s and folds. I pick up around 8k from our sidepot, and eliminate a short stack when the Jh falls on the river. But still, I am finding myself in a horrible situation - Warney and Nitro are now completely running over the table. Nitro has chipped up to around 60k and Warney isn't far behind. He is showing no one respect and calling with any two pre, then continually taking down pots with 2nd/bottom pair because the nits have missed their Aces, and Kings.

Later in the level a BG player is moved to our table, with almost double the chip average. I am ecstatic at this fact, as we have a lot of history and the player is very bad. Like clockwork, we get involved in our first hand. BG player opens 3x UTG. Folds to me in the BB and I squeeze ATo. I call. Flop is K32r. I decide that c/r is a stronger line than check/calling or leading, as I can easily rep the K as I know that this player is going to fire a cbet on this dry board. So I check. BG player fires 3k. I am sitting on a stack of 21k, and I c/r to 9.5k. I even count out the remaining chips I have left, in front of the BG player, to let him know that I have invested nearly 50% of my stack in this pot - so I am not letting go. I am confident that the BG player will only call here with all Kings, and shove over me with AA. He lets go of all air and middle pairs. Eventually he folds, and I feel 800% awesome. This is poker, knowing what my opponent will do and exploiting it.

We're at the dinner break, and I have 30k. So I am up 2k over 3 levels of play which is obviously not ideal. But I had no cards to make anything work, and had to be content to stealing pots with metagame/3rd level thinking against thinking players I can exploit. I am hoping that the next level can bring me some cards so I don't have to rely on making moves all session. We head back to 400/800, so I am not dead at all. But I would definitely like more chips. The 3rd session begins and I'm still card dead. Bar the Kings in my first session, I have had one pocket pair all day, 3s. My best Ace has been the AThh. But not that I'm complaining, I should be able to make my own play happen. Cards don't come and this is when the true poker players shine. But Warney and Nitro are making every decision so hard, I am getting nothing to play back against them... (87cc, J9o, Q8hh etc). Its all Q4... J2... K3. But enough bitching. I chip up to 34k.

Then comes my KO hand. It folds to Warney in the CO and he makes it 2800, 3.5xBB. Folds to my BB, and I peel ThTc. I am definitely raising, so I count out my size. I land on 7800, and put the pressure back on Warney. He tank chips for 34k. There are a lot of reasons why I called here. The way that Warne handled my raise, and put his chips into the pot... I was fairly sure I was in a flip. He had been reacting to high pocket pairs in a different manner. Also, he had shown down 66-99 in this spot. Not that I was expecting to have him dominated, but I knew the chance was there. I had not been able to play back against Nitro and Warney all day. I had the skills to outplay Warney postflop, but not the stack. Combined with the fact that I've never had a huge stack in an live 888pl event and I was playing for 30k, not $700, I made the call. Warney has AQo and a Q lands on the window. My GF is over. But I'm ok with it, I was more than happy that my read was correct and I was flipping. All we can do is put our chips in ahead and hope to hold

So the dream is over... but not the night. I rush around the club trying to find out what's happening, party wise. Amazingly, even though that we're all in the same place at once, nothing is going on. My BG mates have either gone home or are still in the tournament. Same situation with the forum crew. So I head home, annoyed that my weekend is ending with a few tables of 10/25c on Stars and Johnnie Walker cans. I let as much known on Facebook (back to that opening paragraph ) and Glyn comes to my rescue. We both want to get out of the house, so we head for a drive around the city. We're not going anywhere, just the act of doing it is enough.

Glyn introduces me to Villi's Cafe, which is pure awesome. I'm told its a Pancake House-esque establishment, which is quite evident by the bunch of drunk teens around the place. Their quiche is quite spectacular. Done with our food, we travel off into the night, not really knowing where we're going. Straight away, Glyn's left tyre cracks a flat. Sighhhh. Being the women that we are, we have no idea how to change a flat tyre. But we've seen it done tons of times, so we're pretty confident that we can do this. Maybe.

Glyn turns the car around and parks at a Caltex - right across the road from a closed RAA. The ironing is delicious. I head inside and ask the owner for some help - a Pakistani man aged in this mid 30s. The man comes outside, and offers no help. He can't do anything because he has "customers" inside the store and if his manager comes out (yes, at 3am) then he will get in a load of trouble for leaving the store (just outside the doors, yeah). So whatever, he heads back inside. His customers are two Pakistani/Indian/whatever dudes, who are casually standing by the ice cream machine, chatting with him. The dude isn't even behind his counter. DOUCHE.

Glyn uses his iPhone (iPhone's ftw) to figure out how to get the jack working (shut up, car specific). Moving past that hurdle, we're stuck on one huge bolt inside his tyre. Looking through the diagram in his boot, its clear that we are missing at least 3 pieces of his "how to fix a flat tyre" set. And obv, one looks like the piece we need. So we go with the RAA route, Glyn calls up Vinnie to get him to drop off his card. Vinnie does and Glyn works on his Vincent Tse signature. Its looking passable. Now I just have to remember to call him Vinnie. Our Pakistani friend comes outside again (we've been here for nigh on 2h now), asking if things are ok - he doesn't care. We tell him that the RAA are rocking up and he heads in, smiling. Oh, he would feel like a better human being now that's he's done that, for sure. Dick.

Mr RAA man rocks up, not questioning the fact that Vincent Tse is obviously white, and takes 30s to sign his own name. Grabbing a mallet from his van, he smacks the back of the tyre and it drops forward onto the ground. Ohhh. We would've never got that! Within 10m his job is done. He asks Glyn (sorry, Vinnie) to sign the form again, Glyn shoots me a look. Why is he asking again? I try to keep busy and move Glyn's equipment back into the van. Glyn stands there for half a minute, shooting his eyes back across the page to copy his first signature. It seems to go ok, the RAA dude has no idea. We thank him and he drives off, another life saved. So its finally time to leave the Caltex. We pack up our stuff and say our final goodbyes - not before I steal a bag of ice for my esky though

Its now around 5.30am. Glyn and I still have a few hours to kill before his 10am shift at the club. He suggests a cyber cafe - sounds good to me, I just wanna chill for a few hours anyway. Its a short drive to the nerd hang out (tyre is working fine btw, holla!). This place is every stereotype you can think of. The guy working behind the counter is your typical Asian teenager, more concerned with leveling up his WoW character than his customers. Or grinding, as Glyn calls it. Grinding WoW... lolz. Glyn and I spend the next two hours watching YouTube/PokerTube videos. I am not a huge YouTube guy, but Glyn shows me clip after clip that is pure awesome. Spinning a baseball bat in midair. Urban Ninja. We trade clips, and lolz, until 7.30am. Our time is up, sigh. We pay the Asian kid (nice guy, fwiw) and head off. Its right about now that I'm starting to get a bit drowsy. Glyn looks wrecked.

Why did we do this.

- Sunday -

Because we are awesome balla poker players and we can do whatever the hell we want. Yeah. We arrive at the club a little bit after 8.15am, still wired from the night's adventure. Glyn decides he needs a quick nap, or he'll die on the felt today. I don't want to take a nap otherwise I'll sleep till 3pm, so I head for a walk around West Adelaide. Mostly in search of food, I need nourishment. After wondering around West Adelaide aimlessly for 20m, (I have no idea where I'm going) I find a Caltex. I soon realise it is the same Caltex Glyn and I were trapped at last night! I head inside to talk to our Pakistani friend, who should still be working the same shift.

Alas, he isn't. But there is another Pakistani working behind the counter! And this guy is much nicer - although he seems a bit off put by my drunken ramblings (oh yeah, I hadn't stop drinking since around 5pm Saturday). The man smiles at me, nodding. Yeah, he's a little bit freaked out. I grab some food for Glyn and I and start the trek back (Powerade ftw!). By the time I'm back at the club, its 8.50am. 888pl staff have started to rock up - I find Garth, Brett and a few Grand Finalists lucky enough to make it to day 2 inside. They're discussing the day's field, stack sizes and players. Garth looks surprised to see me so early, I let him in on my night out with Glyn. He gives a wry smile.

Time to wake up sleeping beauty. I tap the window and the afro-spew-monkey FREAKS OUT, jumping back in his chair. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust and comprehend the situation. Then his brain clicks on who I am and where he is. And all is well in Glyn's world. I pass him the Powerade (Powerade ftw!) and he chugs it down like a machine. Time to get into the zone. We head inside.

I'm feeling so dead. I literally could fall asleep on the floor if given a few minutes alone. Glyn seems ok, he probably does this all the time. I, however, do not. I need energy right now. Luckily, Scott has rocked up and has an extra coffee. Holla! I down my heroin with sweet delight. Coffee and Jonnie Walker are actually a fun mix. I make a mental note to not go too overboard today, as my body simply will not be able to take it. As the morning drags on, more 888pl players are rocking up. Some still reeling from yesterdays session, others energised for the action ahead. I converse with a few, trying my best to not criticise their obvious bad play when they tell me their "beats." Smile and nod, Aaron. Smile and nod.

Day 2 of the GF is about to start. I wish luck to all the forumers remaining. Scott and benny the cunt are my picks to make a deep run. Unfortunately for Scotty, the 8h drops on the turn to end his day. Damn 2 outers. I talk with Scott just after his elimination. He obv is not in the mood for conversation. I try to console him, but I know what its like to be in his position. No words can change how you feel after putting your entire stack in as a 96% favourite. Not that Scott even needs the 888pl recognition to be a considered a great poker player - but of course, it would be nice. Your win is coming though dude. Nearing 12pm now and I can hardly keep up a conversation. A lot of my interaction with players is condensed into one word answers or small nods. Surprisingly, I'm not hungry. Just deflated. I've been awake for 31h - a personal best. I grab Glyn's car keys off him and head to his car, I need some rest. Lying in his car, I ponder my all in call yesterday and drift of to sleep.

I get about 30m of sleep. I find it hard to get comfortable wearing jumper and jeans. The sun is too bright for me to get any real sleep, so I head back inside the club. Still feeling under the weather, I head upstairs to watch some of the Aussie Millions rebuy. Dave, Scott and old-man daryl have decided to play so I rail for a bit. Shortly after, benny the cunt and Macca have both busted the GF. Bad luck boys, but you played well to get this far. So the forum is left with two horses; Krunchie and "nplking" Trishan. The lads and I spend the afternoon playing $20 sng's (I am donating to everyone) and keeping up to date with the progress of our mates. Around 3pm I hit my second wind, which is awesome. The AM rebuy is still going strong. Play is stopped for 15m so the field can rail the bubble downstairs. Unfortunately, Trishan bubble bubbles in 29th. Hard luck champ, but you played quite well all tournament. Hopefully next time villian can learn to fold 97o from UTG

The highlight of the day is (brag) shipping the forum $20 sng. We hold an Omaha variant, and I bust first hand to Caleb. I was quite clearly outplayed. There was talk of a crazy pineapple game but by this time the sng's are packing up. Everyone looks tired, its been a long weekend, for sure. Krunchie is the main man of the day, eventually cashing for 19th (I think? Could be wrong here) for something like $1,100. I'll take the time again to say well done sir! Definitely a step up in your poker career, and a sign of things to come.

So the day is drawing to a close - everyone important has been knocked out (wait, there's still a tournament going on? ) so I don't really care who does well anymore. I do hope that Nitro ships the event though, as the kid easily deserves to be there. The field whittles down to the final table and I take the time to order a chicken parmigiana from the club. Hot tip: Do not order the chicken parmigiana. Appetite conquered, I head into the club rooms to rail the FT action. The FT is just beginning - Nitro is still in! Awesome, go dude.

Play is predictably tight for the first few levels. There is no action postflop (stacks just don't allow for it) so all of the action is done pre. Nitro unluckily runs his A6o into AA to bust out in 8th. Still, that was like $4k so definitely not a bad few days! Gratz again sir. The night is dragging on and the FT finally has a worthy crowd. I chat to Bruce about poker and the affect its had on people across Australia. We both agree that pub poker has changed our lives for the better. I organise for Bruce to drop me off home - which is a relief, because until then it was looking like a lonely train ride home for Aaron.

Nicole storms the FT, the girl just cannot lose a pot. She is winning every all in situation. Her 77 holds up vs AK to move her into the chip lead. 4 handed now, and we're told that she has 65% of the chips in play. Chatting with Andrew, a VIC TD, we agree that she doesn't need to be getting out of line here with AT/77/KJ. Just play the premiums and go for the win. Just as this conversation is going on, a short stack shoves all in for 400k. Nicole is sitting on 4 million and makes the call. While the chips are being counted down, Andrew and I put Nicole on a range of hands.

"Gotta be AJ up, her bf told her to play tighter, yeah?"
"Yeah, he did. Its Ace King."
"Be funny if she rolled over KQ."
"Haha, yeah."

Nicole rolls over KQ, vs A7o, and the Ace holds Andrew and I laugh. Then, a player that's been standing next to me the whole time pipes up.

"Sometimes you just gotta play different."
"Excuse me sir?"
"You just gotta play different.. you can't wait for Aces."
"No, we're not saying that. We're just saying that in this situation, that is a fold there. Nicole does not need to be calling all ins with such a marginal hand."
"KQ is a good hand!"
"Oh, it is. Just not in this situation... I don't see players shoving on KJ there, do you? A lot of the time she will be against Ace x, a pocket pair, or worse, she's dominated."
"You just gotta play different mate."

He walks off. Its almost like he's telling me that sometimes you've got to knowingly put it in behind, just to be "different." Can't be seen playing the same all the time now! The final table is dragging on, I'm getting tired again. I need sleep, come on lets see some bustouts! But play slows down quite a bit. Its not for a while that we see our next elimination, A2>A6, all in preflop. Drop the deuce river. The guy that busted out in 3rd is understandably angry - until he sees his plague. "$250 credit online bro? Haha that's AWESOME." He starts jumping around with his mates. Yes, the man just shipped $14,000 but he's more concerned with getting $250 on 888

So heads up play begins, Nicole vs Peter. Peter had been playing quite aggressive all final table, building his stack without going to showdown. Nicole seemed very timid, but could still hold her own at the table (obv, you don't get to heads up play just by hitting cards all weekend!). But my money was still on Peter for the win. Right off the bat, Peter's aggressive style pays off as he ships the first few pots. Then comes the final hand. With stacks practically even, Nicole limps the SB. Peter, with a weird expression on his face, checks the BB. The flop comes 97Qcc. Peter checks. Nicole leads out. Peter tilts his head and inquires on the bet size. Instantly Dave and I say to one another that he's got a big hand. He will obviously not be letting this go. I've got him on QJ, due to the weird action preflop.

After a minute or so, Peter announces all in. Nicole tanks, counting down her stack and studying the board. Eventually she, somewhat dejectedly, announces call. The room is buzzing. Who's got what? What do you think she has? Is he bluffing? Stacks are counted down and cards are asked to be turned over. As most of you remember, Peter is holding 97 for bottom two pair, to Nicole's T8, an open ended straight draw. It was just Nicole's tournament, as the 6 falls on the turn to give her a lock on the hand. She just needs to dodge any remaining 9 or 7 to take the win... and she does. Ship the $30,000 prize!

The weekend is over. 888pl's first Grand Final is a rousing success. I have had the best time catching up with the forum gang, drinking the night away and discovering new friends. These trips are the reason I play poker. These events are why 888pl are such a huge success in Australia. I stumble around the room giving my final goodbyes to all important parties involved over the weekend. One final thanks to Dave for all his help, and I'm off.

Phew.

7,005 words ftw.

[Bacon]

tl;dr

[David]

LOL
I'll reply later, Aaron.
But, you don't even LIKE Bacon!!!

Stop complaining

[Scotty]

Man, that brought the weekend flooding back! Nicely done