BLUE-- you may find this of interest.......
http://www.derbylanepoker.com/
This is beautiful facility!
http://www.derbylanepoker.com/
This is beautiful facility!
Blue- Let me help a brother out!! Screw the $2 poker crap!
http://www.cheetahsarasota.com/gallery01-10.asp
http://www.cheetahsarasota.com/gallery01-10.asp
Last edited:
Update:
http://www.heraldtribune.com/article/20130716/ARTICLE/130719713/2416/NEWS?p=3&tc=pg
At One-Eyed Jacks, poker players' luck turns with the cards
By Thomas Becnel
Published: Tuesday, July 16, 2013 at 9:20 p.m.
On a Tuesday night, a quiet night, a night for regulars at the One-Eyed Jacks Card Room, Joe O'Grady played a long stretch of what he called patient poker.
“It's a grind,” he said, stepping outside for a smoke at the Sarasota Kennel Club. “You know you're going to go four or six hours.”
O'Grady, a 47-year-old salesman, paid $50 to enter a daily Texas Hold 'em Tournament with a guaranteed prize of $1,000. He won a few hands, folded a lot more, and managed his chips until he reached the last two tables of players.
Finally, at 10:17 p.m., he saw his chance.
O'Grady held “pocket jacks” — a pair of jacks as his hole cards — and his opponent bet just enough for him to think the guy had no better than ace high.
The odds seemed to be in his favor, but not by a lot. O'Grady needed to make a move. Should he risk his whole night on this hand?
He took his time. He stared at his opponent. He read the table. He tapped his cards. He turned to his chips.
“I'm all in,” he murmured, pushing two stacks to the center of the table.
Plastic rasp of chips
One-Eyed Jacks, which opened in 2006, is one of 23 licensed poker rooms in Florida.
It sits on the second floor of the dog track next to the Sarasota-Bradenton International Airport. This time of year, the place looks lonely, with a few dozen cars at one end of a huge parking lot.
Gamblers pass through a dingy parimutuel betting area to reach the card room, which looks more like the convention hall in a midlevel hotel.
The burgundy-and-gold decor is fine, but not too fine. The air-conditioning is cold, but not too cold. The room is quiet, but not too quiet.
Often the only sound is a plastic rasp as players compulsively stack and shuffle the poker chips that sit in front of them.
“At this point, it's like white noise,” jokes Mark Patrick, the night manager. “I don't even hear it anymore.”
One-Eyed Jacks has 35 tables, each seating a dealer and eight or nine players. Most of the players are men. Many are regulars who spend several days a week hunched over cards.
Some regulars arrive when the place opens at 10 a.m. Some leave when it closes at 2 a.m. Some do both.
“This is entertainment, like going to the movies or a ballgame,” Patrick says. “Instead of doing that, they come here and play cards.”
The Sarasota room, players agree, is more relaxed than a lot of big-city poker palaces. Dress is Florida-casual: T-shirts and tops, jeans and shorts, sneakers and sandals.
A Hyundai mechanic plays in his work shirt. A woman in a pantsuit clutches a purse to her side. A golfer sits at the bar and complains about getting rained out.
Lots of younger players wear hoodies to ward off the air-conditioning. Lots of older players sit on cushions to ease the pressure of hours at a table.
Players can get a neck and back massage without leaving their seat. A masseuse works the room, offering relief at $1.50 a minute.
Nobody, not even the most jittery smoker, likes to miss a hand.
Everybody is looking for the adrenaline rush that comes with making the big call, running the big bluff, winning the big pot. That's what this is all about. The intensity increases along with the chance to win or lose hundreds or even thousands of dollars.
“We like the action,” says Marge Behrmann, a regular from Port Charlotte. “What, we're gonna sit at home?”
Not a lucky hat
O'Grady, the player with pocket jacks, sells home service franchises. Just back from a hectic convention, he needed a night out.
“This is the perfect de-stresser,” he said, looking around the room. “It helps me relax. I equate it to chess with a little bit of added luck.”
At One-Eyed Jacks, O'Grady likes to wear sunglasses over his regular specs. He also wears a Tampa Bay Buccaneers visor with a bristle of fake pink hair.
It's not a lucky hat — he says he doesn't believe in lucky this or lucky that. It's a hat he wore as a joke one night. People made fun of it, so he decided to keep wearing it.
“It's like a trademark,” he says, searching for the right word. “A signature.”
But the guy in the silly visor plays some serious poker.
He keeps track of his wins and losses on a computer spreadsheet. He says that when he won $4,500 in a weekend tournament last month, that put him about even for the year.
O'Grady, who is from The Bronx, moved to Sarasota six years ago. His wife is from Atlantic City, N.J., home to many casinos, which helps explain why she hates poker.
“She says I'm a degenerate gambler,” he says, laughing. “I tell her, ‘If I'm a degenerate gambler, you can't keep half the money I make.' ”
World Series of Poker
In the last decade, poker has enjoyed a boom in popularity, thanks to televised tournaments such as the World Series of Poker, which is underway this month.
Millions of people have learned how to play Texas Hold 'em. They know the lingo. They've played online or in a local game.
Several regulars at One-Eyed Jacks have played in the famous Las Vegas tournament, including Behrman, a 77-year-old retiree.
“I lasted 11 1/2 hours,” she says, “and got knocked out with the best hand.”
She and her husband play in charity games in Port Charlotte. They drive to Sarasota once or twice a week. They like to eat dinner at Sweet Tomatoes, then play cards at the dog track.
Behrman has won a lot of tournaments, but says there's always room for improvement in her game.
“I should be more aggressive,” she says. “I try to last as long as I can. I try to get my money's worth.”
Tournament poker is the cheapest way for players to get a game at One-Eyed Jacks. All they can lose is their entry fee.
A few tables down, though, are limit and no-limit games where people can win or lose money in a hurry. Only no one seems to lose — or admit to losing.
Ask any poker player how he's doing. The answer is that he's winning, breaking even, or about to break even.
This is optimism. Or self-delusion. Or both.
While gamblers overestimate their winnings, they underestimate the time they put in at the tables. For some, it's like a part-time or even a full-time job — one where they might or might not get paid.
When wives call the Sarasota card room, looking for their husbands, the staff says, “Sorry, I can't help you.”
The last card
When O'Grady went all-in with his pair of jacks, his opponent promptly called. With the betting done, both flipped their hole cards face up.
Sure enough, the guy had ace high.
O'Grady had read it right. The odds were in his favor. A winning hand would send him to the final table, where he was sure to take home some money.
Both players watched the dealer flop three community cards, which changed nothing. He turned another card. A pair of jacks? Still good.
Finally, on the “river,” or last card of the hand, the dealer flipped . . . an ace.
“Ohhh,” said O'Grady, exhaling as he absorbed the blow.
Then he caught himself and recovered.
“Good hand, sir,” he said, nodding to his opponent and rising from the table.
Ten seconds later, he was standing outside, lighting a cigarette and shaking his head.
After a few minutes, the dealer came out on his own smoke break.
“Dude!” O'Grady exclaimed, “you're killing me!”
The dealer grinned and shrugged. It wasn't that bad of a beat. What could he do?
After each night of poker, O'Grady makes a point of reviewing his play. On this Tuesday, he got bluffed out of one hand, but other than that he thought he did OK.
He did not regret the way he'd played the pocket jacks.
“I had to fold or push all in,” O'Grady said. “To tell you the truth, I was looking at the clock and I was thinking, you know, my wife is still up. . . . Maybe it's time.”
http://www.heraldtribune.com/article/20130716/ARTICLE/130719713/2416/NEWS?p=3&tc=pg
At One-Eyed Jacks, poker players' luck turns with the cards
By Thomas Becnel
Published: Tuesday, July 16, 2013 at 9:20 p.m.
On a Tuesday night, a quiet night, a night for regulars at the One-Eyed Jacks Card Room, Joe O'Grady played a long stretch of what he called patient poker.
“It's a grind,” he said, stepping outside for a smoke at the Sarasota Kennel Club. “You know you're going to go four or six hours.”
O'Grady, a 47-year-old salesman, paid $50 to enter a daily Texas Hold 'em Tournament with a guaranteed prize of $1,000. He won a few hands, folded a lot more, and managed his chips until he reached the last two tables of players.
Finally, at 10:17 p.m., he saw his chance.
O'Grady held “pocket jacks” — a pair of jacks as his hole cards — and his opponent bet just enough for him to think the guy had no better than ace high.
The odds seemed to be in his favor, but not by a lot. O'Grady needed to make a move. Should he risk his whole night on this hand?
He took his time. He stared at his opponent. He read the table. He tapped his cards. He turned to his chips.
“I'm all in,” he murmured, pushing two stacks to the center of the table.
Plastic rasp of chips
One-Eyed Jacks, which opened in 2006, is one of 23 licensed poker rooms in Florida.
It sits on the second floor of the dog track next to the Sarasota-Bradenton International Airport. This time of year, the place looks lonely, with a few dozen cars at one end of a huge parking lot.
Gamblers pass through a dingy parimutuel betting area to reach the card room, which looks more like the convention hall in a midlevel hotel.
The burgundy-and-gold decor is fine, but not too fine. The air-conditioning is cold, but not too cold. The room is quiet, but not too quiet.
Often the only sound is a plastic rasp as players compulsively stack and shuffle the poker chips that sit in front of them.
“At this point, it's like white noise,” jokes Mark Patrick, the night manager. “I don't even hear it anymore.”
One-Eyed Jacks has 35 tables, each seating a dealer and eight or nine players. Most of the players are men. Many are regulars who spend several days a week hunched over cards.
Some regulars arrive when the place opens at 10 a.m. Some leave when it closes at 2 a.m. Some do both.
“This is entertainment, like going to the movies or a ballgame,” Patrick says. “Instead of doing that, they come here and play cards.”
The Sarasota room, players agree, is more relaxed than a lot of big-city poker palaces. Dress is Florida-casual: T-shirts and tops, jeans and shorts, sneakers and sandals.
A Hyundai mechanic plays in his work shirt. A woman in a pantsuit clutches a purse to her side. A golfer sits at the bar and complains about getting rained out.
Lots of younger players wear hoodies to ward off the air-conditioning. Lots of older players sit on cushions to ease the pressure of hours at a table.
Players can get a neck and back massage without leaving their seat. A masseuse works the room, offering relief at $1.50 a minute.
Nobody, not even the most jittery smoker, likes to miss a hand.
Everybody is looking for the adrenaline rush that comes with making the big call, running the big bluff, winning the big pot. That's what this is all about. The intensity increases along with the chance to win or lose hundreds or even thousands of dollars.
“We like the action,” says Marge Behrmann, a regular from Port Charlotte. “What, we're gonna sit at home?”
Not a lucky hat
O'Grady, the player with pocket jacks, sells home service franchises. Just back from a hectic convention, he needed a night out.
“This is the perfect de-stresser,” he said, looking around the room. “It helps me relax. I equate it to chess with a little bit of added luck.”
At One-Eyed Jacks, O'Grady likes to wear sunglasses over his regular specs. He also wears a Tampa Bay Buccaneers visor with a bristle of fake pink hair.
It's not a lucky hat — he says he doesn't believe in lucky this or lucky that. It's a hat he wore as a joke one night. People made fun of it, so he decided to keep wearing it.
“It's like a trademark,” he says, searching for the right word. “A signature.”
But the guy in the silly visor plays some serious poker.
He keeps track of his wins and losses on a computer spreadsheet. He says that when he won $4,500 in a weekend tournament last month, that put him about even for the year.
O'Grady, who is from The Bronx, moved to Sarasota six years ago. His wife is from Atlantic City, N.J., home to many casinos, which helps explain why she hates poker.
“She says I'm a degenerate gambler,” he says, laughing. “I tell her, ‘If I'm a degenerate gambler, you can't keep half the money I make.' ”
World Series of Poker
In the last decade, poker has enjoyed a boom in popularity, thanks to televised tournaments such as the World Series of Poker, which is underway this month.
Millions of people have learned how to play Texas Hold 'em. They know the lingo. They've played online or in a local game.
Several regulars at One-Eyed Jacks have played in the famous Las Vegas tournament, including Behrman, a 77-year-old retiree.
“I lasted 11 1/2 hours,” she says, “and got knocked out with the best hand.”
She and her husband play in charity games in Port Charlotte. They drive to Sarasota once or twice a week. They like to eat dinner at Sweet Tomatoes, then play cards at the dog track.
Behrman has won a lot of tournaments, but says there's always room for improvement in her game.
“I should be more aggressive,” she says. “I try to last as long as I can. I try to get my money's worth.”
Tournament poker is the cheapest way for players to get a game at One-Eyed Jacks. All they can lose is their entry fee.
A few tables down, though, are limit and no-limit games where people can win or lose money in a hurry. Only no one seems to lose — or admit to losing.
Ask any poker player how he's doing. The answer is that he's winning, breaking even, or about to break even.
This is optimism. Or self-delusion. Or both.
While gamblers overestimate their winnings, they underestimate the time they put in at the tables. For some, it's like a part-time or even a full-time job — one where they might or might not get paid.
When wives call the Sarasota card room, looking for their husbands, the staff says, “Sorry, I can't help you.”
The last card
When O'Grady went all-in with his pair of jacks, his opponent promptly called. With the betting done, both flipped their hole cards face up.
Sure enough, the guy had ace high.
O'Grady had read it right. The odds were in his favor. A winning hand would send him to the final table, where he was sure to take home some money.
Both players watched the dealer flop three community cards, which changed nothing. He turned another card. A pair of jacks? Still good.
Finally, on the “river,” or last card of the hand, the dealer flipped . . . an ace.
“Ohhh,” said O'Grady, exhaling as he absorbed the blow.
Then he caught himself and recovered.
“Good hand, sir,” he said, nodding to his opponent and rising from the table.
Ten seconds later, he was standing outside, lighting a cigarette and shaking his head.
After a few minutes, the dealer came out on his own smoke break.
“Dude!” O'Grady exclaimed, “you're killing me!”
The dealer grinned and shrugged. It wasn't that bad of a beat. What could he do?
After each night of poker, O'Grady makes a point of reviewing his play. On this Tuesday, he got bluffed out of one hand, but other than that he thought he did OK.
He did not regret the way he'd played the pocket jacks.
“I had to fold or push all in,” O'Grady said. “To tell you the truth, I was looking at the clock and I was thinking, you know, my wife is still up. . . . Maybe it's time.”
Logged about 200 hours at the Sarasota pokerroom, the dealers are rather impolite compared to other Florida rooms(although lots of brash crappy dealers at the Hard Rock in Tampa, a couple that had no business dealing).................Paul Azinger is a regular at the pokerroom in Sarasota and he also frequents Derby Lane once a week, had the pleasure of becoming good friends with him, he is a very good poker player.
