Here’s another trip report. It IS tragic, but we’ve all enjoyed Hurricanes when we visited.

I found myself at Harrah’s in New Orleans just before Mardi Gras as a present from my soon to be ex-husband. Just typing that feels wrong and horrible and is the reason I stopped updating any of my sites. But that story is for sheverb. The Harrah’s Trip is for the Poker Diaries.

Against my better judgement, I sat down at a $3/6 no limit table. I had a copy of Winning Low Limit Hold’em by Lee Jones with me, but I didn’t really read it. Just skimmed some of the early chapters. My confidence was low because I had busted out on sbo PartyPoker at the end of the year and wasn’t doing well in the home games. My bankroll was right around $0 when I dropped the first $100.

And I dropped that $100, knowing that I would lose it. Do you want to know why? Because I had actually talked myself into believing that I was spending that money on a poker lesson.

Can you believe that shit?

The things people tell themselves in order to play poker.

The game was looser than what I had seen at the Hard Rock in Tampa. People who claimed to be veteran players at my table were busting out over and over again, bitter about the loose callers and dead money. Somehow, they didn’t seem to realize that THEY were the dead money. Time and time again the made straight would lose to the suck out flush and the made flush would lose to the suck out full house. It was just unreal.

I nearly felt proud simply by making my $100 last as long as it did. Close to 8 hours in all. I won’t tell you about what happened after I busted out and put $20 in a slot machine and won $40 in 30 seconds. No. I’ll keep that to myself.

Then I left to drink Hurricanes, watch parades and catch beads. That’s pretty much all New Orleans is good for.


Wes has a really neat post about his last trip to Louisiana. It was actually fairly recently. Here’s a portion :

After a blistering first night in Orleans that lasted until sunup, I begged off on second night festivities about midnight. I knew I was going to be the one driving to Mobile and then back home and figured I could use a little sleep one night. Steve understood and stayed out while I made my way back to the W Hotel (We had a free room for three nights comped by Harrah’s due to a previous trip Steve had made. He had gone into Harrah’s after a week of selling beads at Mardi Gras with about $200 to play blackjack. He worked it up to $1000 and started betting $100 a hand, which got the attention of the floor supervisor. He worked up to a $2000 stack and realizing who was watching, he calmly made a $1000 bet. Of course he hit ten and had to double up, right? Twenty came and the dealer turned over a low number. Three cards later, the math added up to a push and Steve shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well, I tried.” Obviously, that is the way to get comped in New Orleans.) That night, I heard him stumble in about 4:00 a.m. At 10:00 a.m., beer in hand, I asked him about his night. He admitted that he had gotten lost on his way home due to his state, and had been taken under the wing of a local “lady,” the type that like to meet tourists. She must have realized Steve was in no shape to be a client or pose a danger and graciously walked him back to the hotel. I said, “Steve, did she make you pay for the walk?” He replied, “No, and she gave me a free feel when we got here.” Like I said, Kramer.


With apologies to John Kennedy O’Toole…this is the Iggy bio from POKER SAVVY :

Ignatius J. Reilly


Iggy blogs about poker nearly every day, all the while bemoaning the loss of “taste and decency” in modern times. He lives with his mother in New Orleans.


Al is the honorary drunken mayor of New Orleans, and I’ve heard a dozen stories. Here’s one…

Reminds me of the time where I was sitting in the aisle seat and BigMike was booked in the middle seat. I was already on the plane well ahead of Mike and a lady had the window seat.

We were chatting along when BigMike started walked down the aisle. I turned to this poor woman and started saying things like…

“Oh no, you know that fat ass is going to sit next to me….”

“Crap, this happens to me all the time. Fat people smell….”

“Why don’t you give him the window seat and sit next to me”

She was completely stunned. She kept telling me to shut up because BigMike was getting closer and closer. As he stopped at our aisle, I just said….

“Oh Christ!”

Her eyes were burning a hole in me.

BigMike looks down and says, “Hey Al, what’s going on”. I replied, “Not much, how you doing?”

When I looked over at the poor woman in the window seat, she had turned 3 different shades of purple and actually leaned over and hit me.

She was grumbling the entire flight to New Orleans. We got a nice chuckle out of that one.


Another trip report. New Orleans was FUN!

For the second session at Harrah’s in New Orleans, my wife and I were much better prepared, and we mopped that game (3/6 no kill) in the 4 hours we spent playing. These people were absolutely HEMMORAGING money, and for some reason only buying chips in $40 shots. I guess that was their idea of BR management. After drinks (plus wait staff tipping), and what I now realize was extravagant dealer tipping ($2/pot, bad HumanHead, BAD!), we still walked away almost 20 BB up. If given the chance I would have stayed at that table all night long. Friday at the Prairie Band Harrah’s I plan on playing in the $100 NLHE weekly tourney, simply because I’ve never played a live one before. If the live tourney play is ANYTHING like the B&M; ring game play, I think I have a damn decent chance of doing well.

That’s all for now. My New Orleans stories are coming soon. Please post your own. I think its important to keep thinking about what’s happening. This is BIG!