Originally Posted by
Pokerjoe
This is a mean post I'm writing, but there's a method to my madness:
Kid, if your level of poker analysis leads you to such a conclusion as I bolded in the quote above, you have no shot. If your friend shares it, good, I could always use another live one in the game.
Stay with mom and dad and the dog. That way you won't wake up in your thirties and find yourself with a wife and kids and lame job. You'll wake up with no wife, no kids, and no job at all. But a dog. You'll have a dog.
I can tell you are a massive poker donkey by the fact that you think this: "I have had people admit things to me like signaling strong and weak hands with specific bet amounts and betting up pots against non-locals and settling up outside the room."
First, bullfooey. YTF would anyone admit it to you? Why would a cheat or a team of cheats admit it to anyone? It's a story you made up to excuse your own losing.
The freaking games here on almost entirely on the up-and-up, and if they weren't, you'd be the last to know.
And the locals are all trying to cut each other's throats just as much as they are any tourist, and they almost all suck anyway. The people in the card rooms every day are degen regs, not local pros.
So I can tell you're a massive poker donkey by all that, but I can tell you are a massive sports betting donkey by the fact that you plan on this: "Not so much a worry for me because I'll be at the book."
Donkeys spend time in books. Sharps just visit. So if you're planning to spend time there ...
What will happen is you and your friend will end up going home one day and blaming all your failure here on the city, whereas Vegas will actually have had nothing to do with your failure, it will have been your own lack of IQ that's at fault. But you won't recognize that fact. You'll just blame "Vegas." And you'll be another local yokel somewhere sitting at the local bar telling people "Don't move to Vegas, that city's the devil, I know, me and my friend went and we got so cheated and there were drugs all over which we fell into and the women there lie and steal and ..."
Kid, when the time comes, walk through the Venetian poker room a few times a day mumbling, "Pokerjoe? Anyone here go by the handle Pokerjoe? He said he'd buy me bus fare home. Pokerjoe, anyone?"
It'll be degrading, but by that time you'll hardly notice.