Tunica's Last Hurrah

Is this Tunica's last hurrah? There's no official word as of yet, but I do hear things not everyone hears. No one wants to confirm anything, but MGM/Mirage has not renewed its contract for the '09 season with the World Poker Tour for its Tunica tournament held at the Gold Strike.

Not only that, but MGM/Mirage has laid off close to 30 executives at the Gold Strike without replacing them. If you know anything about corporate business, you know that this almost certainly means one thing: A sale of the property is imminent. By cutting payroll, they boost short-term profits, making the bottom line more appealing to anyone interested in buying the casino.

If this is all true (and I think it is), this will probably be the end of one of the greatest tournaments of all time. At one point, I'd have to say that it was the number-two tournament in the world, next to the World Series of Poker. It's also been the premier Southern tournament, and there are few enough of those. (Hurry back, New Orleans!)

Since Jack Binion left, it has lost much of its luster, but it was still a destination I looked forward to each year. The drinks are free, the people are friendly, and the food is great (if you pick your spots). And, after eight years, I still get a kick out of the casinos being out in the middle of cotton fields.

In the annual Jack Binion World Poker Open, I finished second in the final two events. While there are many reasons for the poker boom - Internet poker, holecard cams, and celebrities playing poker - the one that I think was as big as any was when ESPN began using poker as filler for dead time.

After the tournament, the producers told me that ESPN had scheduled the final table to air four times, and possibly more. This show wound up airing more than 100 times, easily. It seemed that every time I flipped to ESPN late at night, I saw myself losing the final hand to a gutshot over and over and over. I should sue ESPN for mental cruelty!

Since then, I've played the main event four or five times. It seems that every tournament, people have spent the whole year thinking of the stupidest plays they can make, and then they wait for me. This year was no exception.

The first one came down like this: Everyone mucked to the cutoff, who limped. I had pocket sixes on the button and limped behind him. The flop came 8 6 2. The big blind bet out the pot, 400. The limper raised to 1,200, and I made it 4,000 straight. I made this big raise to shut out any straight or flush draws. No one was getting anywhere near the correct odds to try to draw now, as neither of my opponents had even 10,000.

That didn't stop Mr. Limper, though. After the big blind folded, he moved in for another 5,000 with the Q 4! Nice play, buddy. You had only 1,200 invested, but had to put your last 9,000 in when the best you could be was a 2-to-1 dog? He was 3-to-1 against my set, and would have been 4-to-1 against a bigger flush draw. (I wouldn't raise here with a smaller flush draw, unless it contained a pair or a straight draw to go with it.)

I'm sure you can surmise that I didn't win this pot, with this much venom dripping from my pen. But this guy couldn't even be civil about it and just hit his stupid flush! The turn and river came 7, 5, giving him the idiot end of a straight! (The key word is idiot here.)

The floorman wanted to make sure that I couldn't get any of my chips back, so he quickly moved me to another table. It took three hands to get the cooler in on me this time. A short stack moved in with A-J offsuit from early position, and I gave him protection with an all-in raise with A-K suited. A jack came on the river, and the floorman immediately made me move again!
Apparently, they were having trouble setting the coolers with me at the table, because as soon as I got to my new table … boom! I was dealt pocket tens, and three people had limped in front of me! (This was the first freakin' hand here!)

Well, I know something stupid is going to happen to me here unless I can somehow prevent it. I think to myself, should I move in? Well, the blinds are still only 100-200, and even with three limpers, there's only 900 out there. I have 4,600, so moving in is just out of the question. I make it a healthy 1,600 to go, overbetting the pot to get any stupid hands out (or so I think). Everyone mucks to the last guy to my right, who calls.

The flop comes 8-6-2 rainbow, and I figure I'm home free. He checks, and I move all in for my last 3,000. He instantly calls me and turns over the 7 5. I let out a long, sick sigh, as I know that I fell into the trap/cooler. A 5, then a 4, and I'm out the door.

Nice play this genius made. First, he calls 1,400 more when he's got only 200 invested, knowing he has by far the worst hand. (He's almost a 4-to-1 dog against an overpair like I had.) Second, he should know that I've got only 3,000 left, so it's not like he can win a big pot if he does get lucky. And third, once he was lucky enough to flop an open-end straight draw, he checked to me instead of betting. He's calling if I move in, so why wouldn't he move in himself and hope that I fold? Was he slow-playing his 7 high?

Think about it. What if I had checked behind him and an ace had rolled off? Now, is he still going to call with only one card to come, knowing he's become a 4-to-1 dog? Just bad play all around.

Isn't anyone going to bring me some cheese to go with this whine? No? OK, I guess I'll make this another two-parter. I traveled down to Tunica with my good friend Hoyt Corkins. I'll go over some of his experiences next time.