Ship It Holla Ballas! (25 page)

While Wynn was building his second resort, the Mirage, he sought Baldwin’s input on everything from financing to design, and when the doors opened on what was then the most expensive casino in history, Baldwin was the man in charge. When Wynn decided to build an even more extravagant casino modeled after a luxury resort on the shores of Italy’s Lake Como, he didn’t have to look very far to find the perfect guy to run the Bellagio.

At the time, most Las Vegas casinos were replacing their poker rooms with slot machines, an effort driven by an influx of MBAs looking to squeeze bigger profits out of every square foot on the casino floor. But Baldwin saw the wisdom of going against the grain at the Bellagio, creating an amenity-filled card room that quickly became the most popular in town. He also added a sanctuary, cordoned off from the tourists by etched glass windows, where his friends could play high-stakes poker in relative privacy.

Bobby’s Room could be considered poker’s Yankee Stadium, home to the most talented (and richest) players in the world, only without the fans. Few can handle the steep price of admission. Raptor’s a little nervous when he steps into the room, like he felt three years ago when he first mustered the nerve to sit down at a table at the Poker Box with $100 in front of him. Only this time it’s $100,000.

The one open seat at the table is being reserved for Bobby Baldwin himself, but the floorman tells Raptor he can use it until the boss arrives. Pot-limit Omaha really isn’t Raptor’s best game, but that’s what they’re playing and he’s not in any position to request a change. To calm the butterflies in his stomach, he stares at the “i” in “Bellagio” written on the table’s felt and focuses on his breath.

Inhale.… Exhale.… Inhale.… Exhale.…

He’d be far more anxious if, in true Raptor fashion, he hadn’t carefully researched the competition. Like the rest of the players in the room, Raptor hopes to take advantage of the presence of a single person at the table, a bald man in his late forties with a slight French accent. Guy Laliberté, the billionaire owner of Cirque du Soleil, fell in love with high-stakes poker a little more than a year ago and has been paying through the nose for “lessons” ever since. (He will reportedly lose $16 million playing online poker in 2008.)

But when Raptor starts chatting with Laliberté, he discovers that he’s more interested in learning about the man’s storybook life—a Canadian hippie who began his improbable career as a street performer—than separating him from his money. Laliberté radiates passion, a commodity Raptor suspects is an essential ingredient to a successful life. It feels inspiring to talk to a man who became so prosperous doing what he loved most.

Bobby Baldwin shows up an hour later to claim his seat. The other players at the table aren’t particularly happy to see Raptor leave—he wins a $200,000 pot within minutes of sitting down, and manages to hold on to most of it for the rest of the session. But as he shakes hands with Laliberté, Raptor suspects that only a small percentage of his newfound wealth is monetary.

45

I do have to say, though a great poker player, durrrr is one of the biggest prop betting fish I know.

—Jman

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
(July 2007)

Durrrr arrives at the compound carrying a backpack stuffed with bricks of bundled hundred-dollar bills. He counts out $350,000 and matter-of-factly hands it to TheUsher—his share of the action they agreed to split while they were in Italy, an arrangement TheUsher had forgotten all about.

The sheer mass of the money makes it a moment to remember, even in the midst of a summer where $10,000 bricks are just another prop in the Ship It Holla Balla mise en scène, as ubiquitous as the piles of dirty laundry. Now that most of the Ballas can legally play in tournaments and live games, cash rivals the money in their online accounts as the currency of choice and the principal method of exchange between them. When they’re not playing poker, they’re often devising schemes that will hasten the flow of this cash from one to the other.

Raptor and Apathy spend many afternoons playing Rapathy Golf—each player throws a golf ball into the farthest reaches of the compound, then uses a putter to return the ball to the green, avoiding whatever obstacles lie between the ball’s original position and the hole. Pretty silly stuff, unless you’re playing for hundreds of dollars a hole.

Even larger sums trade hands on the tennis court, which is frequently in use, even though none of the Ballas brought rackets with them. After hearing through the Two Plus Two grapevine about all the high-dollar action taking place there, PerkyShmerky arrives in a chauffeur-driven Rolls-Royce Phantom to challenge a Two Plus Twoer named Chuddo to a series of $5,000 matches.

But when it comes to gambling serious money, durrrr has no rival. Over the last few months, several anecdotal accounts on the message boards have him donking off hundreds of thousands of dollars while multitabling high-stakes cash games. According to HighstakesDB—a Web site launched earlier in the year to track the results of Internet poker’s biggest players—durrrr has lost half a million dollars since January. When a player with his abilities can lose so much money so quickly, it creates a ripple of concern among his friends:
If durrrr can go broke
 …

So the backpack full of cash is a welcome sight.

“I’d heard you’d gone busto,” says Apathy. “Glad to see that was a bunch of BS.”

“Unfortunately, the rumors of my demise are partially accurate. I’m down about two mil over the past four months.” Durrrr sighs, before perking up. “But, hey, I started with three.”

While its comforting to see durrrr and his backpack full of cash, it’s
hilarious
to see durrrr and his backpack full of cash when all the lights in the house suddenly go out, instantly producing a collective panic:
Oh shit, are we about to get jacked
again
?
Durrrr cinches the backpack’s straps tightly to his chest and paces nervously, expecting robbers to burst through the door at any moment, until the power comes back on a few minutes later.

Durrrr’s dramatically fluctuating bankroll has done little to curb his appetite for big prop bets. He’s eating dinner at P. F. Chang’s with Raptor when the conversation turns to chess. Durrrr claims he could beat a Grandmaster if his opponent began the game down a rook.

“Bullshit,” Raptor coughs into his napkin.

“I’m serious. I’ll bet you fifty K.”

“Book it,” Raptor says, then pulls out his phone and calls Curtains, a fellow Two Plus Twoer who’s in town for the WSOP.

“Hey, it’s Raptor. You’re a chess Grandmaster, right?”

“Incorrect,” replies Curtains. “I’m an International Master.”

“What’s that, like, a step below?”

“Two steps, actually.”

“Well, could you beat durrrr in a match if you started down a rook?”

“Maybe. What’s he rated?”

Raptor looks across the table at durrrr and his smug grin. “He doesn’t have a rating.”

“Then I’d place my odds of winning at around a hundred percent.”

The chess match becomes a must-see event. Two Plus Twoers arrive at the compound in droves to sweat the action, betting thousands on the outcome. For those who can’t make it in person, Raptor provides running commentary on the message boards.

Durrrr plays defensively, so it takes Curtains a bit longer than he expected to sweep the best two-out-of-three series. Durrrr removes a few bricks from his backpack and tosses them to Raptor, who pays Curtains $8,000 for his troubles and pockets the rest.

Durrrr shrugs off the loss.
There’s a reason money doesn’t come with handles on it.

The hubbub on the message boards has barely subsided when Chuddo gives durrrr fifty-to-one odds that he can’t sink three long putts in a row on the green in the backyard. A few minutes and three incredibly lucky putts later, durrrr’s won his $50,000 back.

46

It was easily [one of the] top five sickest nights of my life and I’d bet everyone would say the same.

—Traheho

LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
(July 2007)

If you’re unfamiliar with the concept of an “infinity pool,” it’s a swimming pool that uses architectural design and structural engineering to trick the eye into believing that one of its edges extends forever, when in fact it drops abruptly, sometimes off the side of a cliff.

The infinity pool in the Hugh Hefner Sky Villa, at the top of the Palms Hotel’s Fantasy Tower, thrills guests both ways. You’re not sure whether to feel exhilarated by the gods-eye view of the Las Vegas Strip and the seemingly endless horizon beyond or terrified by the 40-story drop into the abyss.

The pool is just one of the many amenities you get when renting the most expensive accommodations in what is arguably the city’s most rocking hotel, a joint venture between the jet-setting, hard-partying, NBA-team-owning Maloof brothers and their corporate partner Playboy Enterprises. The informal name of this 9,000-square-foot villa is the Playboy Suite—during off-hours it doubles as the set of the Playmate-centric reality TV show
Girls Next Door
. Taking up two floors at the very top of the hotel, it boasts pop-up plasma TVs in every room, beds that rotate to exploit the view, tables for poker and Ping-Pong, a Jacuzzi, a sauna, a wet bar, and a fully equipped gym. It even comes with a butler. Tonight his duties will include lighting joints, procuring pharmaceuticals, and shepherding drunk, hot girls from the casino up to the suite.

Good2cu is one of a group of friends who have rented the suite to celebrate the twentieth birthday of WestMenloAA, a kid from California in the midst of a year that will see him win more than $1 million and receive
CardPlayer
magazine’s inaugural Online Player of the Year award. They stock the bar with $2,000 worth of top-shelf liquor and invite as many hot chicks as they know, including a couple of Good2cu’s friends who are visiting from East Lansing.

Good2cu has plenty to celebrate. Living in the Ship It Holla compound has completely altered his poker fortunes. His confidence started building the moment he got there. Immersed in a space buzzing with advice, ideas, and support, he gains much needed perspective on his downswing, separating what was bad play from bad luck, restoring his belief that he might actually have some talent for the game.

But the more serendipitous discovery comes during a discussion with one of the compound’s many couch crashers, a friend of Inyaface from Toronto who shows Good2cu how to set up a Virtual Private Network.

VPNs are typically used by businesses to give their employees in the field secure access to the same resources they’d have at the office, allowing them to log on to the corporate network from anywhere in the world and use their computers as if they were sitting at their desks. They can also be used, as Inyaface’s friend demonstrates, to dupe an online poker site into believing that you’re playing from a foreign country. A few minutes later, he and Good2cu have negotiated a deal to open a Canadian bank account together, allowing Good2cu to return to Party Poker, the site where he experienced most of his early success.

He’s happy to discover that the exodus of Americans from the site hasn’t done anything to slow down the action. Party Poker remains a sea full of fish. Their poor play, coupled with the reassurance that comes from returning to a place where so many good things have happened in the past, helps Good2cu go on a tear. In July alone he earns more than $100,000.

Good2cu’s not the only one who’s having a great summer. TheUsher and TravestyFund both win more than $100,000 in World Series events. Raptor’s tournament experience doesn’t live up to the promise he made to the dancer at the Rhino—he manages only one cash, barely making back his entry fee—but he backs two players who win gold bracelets and pockets a healthy percentage of their scores. And durrrr has bounced back from the downswing he suffered at the beginning of the year in a big way—according to PokerDB, he’s been crushing the cash games online all summer, making more than $750,000.

Good2cu is the first to arrive at the Playboy Suite. He wants to show it off to his two lady friends before the party begins. They can’t linger long. They’ve reserved a table for twelve at Shintaro, the Bellagio’s high-end Japanese restaurant, to celebrate WestMenloAA’s birthday. But they’re there long enough for the luxury hotel room to work its magic: Good2cu is in the middle of a threesome when the butler accidentally walks in on them.

At Shintaro the rowdy crew devours brontosaurus-sized portions of Kobe beef and lays waste to the local lobster supply, washing it all down with bottles of Dom Pérignon and Cristal. At the end of the feast, they’re presented with a $12,000 bill. Each of them hands a credit card to the server, who seems as thrilled by the suggestion of Credit Card Roulette as they are. Good2cu dodges a bullet when his card is the second-to-last drawn; it’s the birthday boy, magnanimously tossing in four credit cards to cover some of his less fortunate friends, who gets stuck with the tab for his own celebration.

They take a limo from the Bellagio to the Palms, where they ride the private glass elevator up to the Playboy Suite. Guests arrive in small boisterous groups. Almost everyone is under twenty-one. Some play beer pong for thousands of dollars a game, while spectators gamble even more. Room service arrives with one of everything. Drinks are served by a beautiful bartender. Joints get sparked and passed around the balcony. One of the guests, who’s just won a major poker tournament, brings a baggie of cocaine that everyone agrees, is very, very good; the ever-dutiful butler finds a mirror to help them rack the lines. No one is entirely certain how the sixty Vicodins materialize, but, you know, gift horses.

A phone call alerts them that the hookers are coming up the wrong elevator, so ambassadors are dispatched to receive them. This leads to an amusing encounter in the elevator lobby with the famous rap star who’s staying in one of the adjoining villas—he’s sending his female companion home just as the two hired to entertain WestMenloAA are arriving.