by the First Lady
As I was delinquent with my post from last week, I decided to pile on two equally important yet diametrically opposed topics for this week's FAQ post.
Why is it so hard for these guys to check in when they get here?
Obviously, this isn't a question that any of you have ever posed. Instead, it's a question I agonize over weekly.
I'm the first to realize the importance of 4th Street as a social event and I recognize that many of you take your sweet time making it to my check in station because you want to greet your friends (cough--Pick--cough). However, I'd like to ask you to consider for a moment two reasons why a punctual check in is so important to me:
- The later we start, the later we end. Over the years, Jeff and I have gotten very accustomed to the post-4SPT haze that accompanies waking up and reporting to work on Friday mornings. And really, it's not so bad when the game ends when it's supposed to, at 1am. Jeff purposefully put together a tournament blind structure that approximates 5 hours of game play, including breaks. But we're relying on you to actually arrive on time (and that means BEFORE 8pm) and check in so we can start promptly at 8pm and end at or before 1am.
- We're playing too! Keep in mind that your faithful Tournament Directors are, in fact, playing in the same game you are. So when you arrive late, our game and concentration is interrupted when you come over with your $20 in hand looking for a seat. The following is a true story to exemplify this point. One night near the beginning of the game, Jeff looked down to see AJ preflop. Two players had arrived late and came over to him to get their seat card. Unable to concentrate on the table action, he folded his hand. The flop came AJJ and as it turned out, someone holding AK took down a huge pot. If everyone had arrived on time, he most certainly would have been involved in that hand (of course, everyone knows this is Jeff we're talking about and so the turn/river likely would have come KK if he had actually played the hand). Regardless, the point is - being late is rude.
You guys know that we're down to 5, right?
It seems like every week, we hear this question from the other room. Very often, our answer is "No - who busted out?" Then we typically hear "That one guy, I don't know his name...you know, the guy wearing the jersey?"
You know what would make this a lot easier? If said guy in said jersey would have just come over and told Jeff or me (whichever is holding the notebook) that he busted out. That way, we ensure we have a handle on the number of players remaining, whether we need to balance tables, and are able to keep an accurate account of the game's standings.
Of course, this is poker - bad beats happen. Beats so bad that you might STORM out the door, FISTs clenched with unadulterated rage. In these circumstances, I completely understand why you might not want to stop over to tell one of us you've busted out. So, if you are seated at a table when this happens and notice that Jeff or I aren't also at the table - please do your 4SPT brotherly duty and come over and tell us who busted out. And if after two and a half years of playing together you still don't know a player's name or nickname - why not introduce yourself? And to further beat a dead horse, please wait to make introductions with the stranger in the jersey until AFTER you've checked in with me.
6 Degrees of In and Out
Today I'll be mapping two players who are notorious (at least in my book) for doing a bad job at either checking in or checking out. Interestingly, they both are only 1 degree of separation from the OG-8.
First, the C-Mint, who seems to be late every week (even when we'd play in his own apartment at the Complex). It's common knowledge that C-Mint is a 4SPT Original, but did you know he wasn't at the very first 4SPT game?
- Jeff and Jennifer had the very first 4SPT game in the living room of their apartment, with 8 people total in attendance.
- Charles (who is Canadian and uses the word "mint" synonymously with "cool," hence the clever nickname Canadian Mint, shortened to C-Mint) was known as the Godfather of the Complex. He lived in two different apartments there and assumed the responsibility of interviewing and providing sign off on anyone who wanted to move in. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he's still doing that even though he no longer lives there.
Second, Ivan "the Terrible," who had a run of three straight games a few seasons ago where he didn't alert us when he busted out...
- Keith "the Cooler" Holsey, Duke of 4th Street, lives and works in the O.C. Every week for almost 3 years (except for a brief time when he randomly moved to Wisconsin, don't ask), the Cooler's been making the hour-plus trek to the Westside in rush hour traffic to play in our game.
- Keith worked with Ivan. Ivan had a home poker game that he'd invite Keith to. While I know I'm supposed to be a historian and present only factual information, the fact is I've never really cared to get the story on how Keith wound up inviting Ivan to the game. But I assume it went something like this. While playing in Ivan's home game, the Cooler takes down a monster pot with 86, resulting in the simultaneous bust out of 4 players and Keith being crowned the OC poker champion. Keith then jumps on the table, pulls out a gat, and yells out "YOU O.C. MOTHER FUCKERS CAN'T FADE THE 4SPT!" Ivan feels slighted and vows to avenge the O.C. He follows Keith home from work one Thursday and finds himself driving towards Santa Monica straight to the check in table of the 4th Street Poker Tour. He sneaks a peek at my check in list and says he's Eliot. I can't be bothered to remember any of your names, so I take his $20 and give him a seat card. He sits patiently and waits for it. Waits for it. Waits for it. Finally, after folding 230 hands in a row, he's dealt 86. And the rest is history...
Considering all the work and time The First Couple puts into The Tour and how much we all love it, the least we can do is check in first, socialize later. Another good read Jenn...
Posted by: Fist | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:24
Keith then jumps on the table, pulls out a gat, and yells out "YOU O.C. MOTHER FUCKERS CAN'T FADE THE 4SPT!"
did jenn start drinking early today? was there an "off-site?"
Posted by: jamie | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:39
Remember my Hayward roots...
Posted by: First Lady | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:40
Jenn- between these history posts and the Judge Ito blog, your writing has been spectacular lately. Well worth the wait!
Posted by: will | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:42
Why thank you! Here's a shameless plug to my Judge Ito post on JennChantal.com.
Posted by: First Lady | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:47
but jeff never plays aj...
Posted by: justin | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:49
it is a bit of a trap hand.
Posted by: Slim | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:52
Awesome article...and very informative. I will try never to be late again! Sorry in advance.
Posted by: | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:57
Awesome article...and very informative. I will try never to be late again! Sorry in advance.
Posted by: High Noon | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 15:58
Absolutely fantastic. Jenn, you are an intergalactic treasure and the fate of all western civilization truly rests on the check-in/out procedures of the 4SPT. That was not meant to be sarcastic, I'm just doing my Bill Walton impression. Another gem: How could you deny Keith Closs, a true NBA great in the making?
Tabe
Posted by: Most, Thine | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 17:10
Forget tracking the real story of how players came to the 4SPT, I would MUCH rather read the versions that emanate from Jenn's Haywardian imagination. Keep those going. Way more interesting...and violent!
Posted by: II-Pod | Thursday, March 29, 2007 at 17:53