High On Poker

Here we go again…

As with most AC trips, a lot is lost to booze and the gambling high. What I do know is this: after Roose won $850 or so from the 10pm Showboat tournament, everyone felt like a winner. We met up for some drinks over at the new bar in the center of the casino floor. In a Vegas-like move, Showboat had installed video poker machines into the new bar, so as long as you play, you drink for free. We ordered several rounds of drinks, most starting with a J and ending with an ose’Cuervo. Inebriated and joyful, we roamed the casino looking for new ways to lose money on stupid table games.

Ultimately, we ended up returning to poker, our usual game of choice. I sat for a bit at a new table, grinding again. I was up about $100 or so after getting lucky on a fun hand. Randy Hole was at the table. Amongst the crew, Randy is probably the most laid back about poker. Everyone at the table thought it humorous when he raised from 2 to 4 preflop at a 1/2 NL table. I loved it. It’s something that I like to do myself from time to time to loosen things up.

After about 7 calls, it was my time to act from the button. I had 6c8c, and everyone was happy to have gotten a cheap flop while building an interesting pot. I put on some theatrics, looking at Randy and announcing to the table, “Sorry, folks, but I can’t let you see a flop for cheap. I raise!” I threw $8 into the pot. It was another laughable raise, but that was the point. Let’s build this pot and see where it goes. Randy called, as did about 3 other players. I guess the others were priced out.

The flop was Qc5c4x, so I had my flush draw and an inside straight draw. Randy bet 4 again and the action moved around to the gentleman on my right who called. I believe I raised again here to 8, just to keep the momentum going. Three of us saw the turn, an 3x, giving me a flush draw and an open-ended straight draw. Randy check and this time, my competition to my right bumped it up to 12 or so. I called, and Randi did as well.

The river was a beautiful 7. I made my 8-high straight (68 in my hand, 754…and 3, on the board). Randy checked. My opponent to my right bet out 20. I thought for a moment. I rechecked my cards to make sure that I had the stone cold nuts. “70, total.” Randy chucked his cards. My opponent called and said, “I think we have the same hand, straight.” “I have a straight, but its to the 8.” The table actually gasped. About 5 hands later, I noticed myself nodding off at the table. Ilan had recently busted, so it seemed like a good time to call it a night.

I should probably mention that when I bought my chips at the cage, Arsenio was cashing out. We actually chatted for a bit and shared some reads on the table he left (I was considering going back there). Interesting how enemies can become friends based on some mutual respect of skill.

Once upstairs, it was clear that we would be sleeping in tight quarters. I settled into a bed next to Roose. We knew each other since we were fetuses and I don’t mind sharing a bed as long as we are under different layers of blanket. Ilan took the other bed and left a spot for his bro-in-law, who was playing craps. As it turns out the b-i-l never showed and disappeared in an orgy of dice rolls until he awoke Rob at 9 am to get into the room, drop a duece and leave AC to return to NY. I can only imagine his thought process but gambling is one hell of a drug.

Rob and Randy Hole hit the floor Friday night. I was drunk and high on poker, but couldn’t sleep…because of Roose. That man’s nostrils put out more noise than a whole lumber mill.

You can re-read the first paragraph of my last post if you’d like. I’ll paraphrase here: Roose was snoring like a freaking bansaw when I awoke hung over. Robbie Hole was sleeping on the floor and I almost crushed his head when I went to release the demons.

When I exited that bathroom on Saturday morning, I expected to tiptoe back to bed. What I found was that, like clockwork, everyone was starting to awake. We strategized a plan. At 11am was another Showboat tournament, this one actually $40+10. We would check out, dump our stuff at the concierge desk, grab some grub and get back to the poker.

All done, I sat down at a new table ready to play another tournament. This time was different. I knew that I had to play better. Roose had a great success, and now it was time to show him up. Yep, I’m petty like that.

I can go through a series of hands, but I don’t think I have it in me. Let’s cut to the chase. I placed 12th out of 114, two spots from the money. I played well, but at the end got unlucky in a couple of spots and found myself dominated repeatedly. I’m not boo-hooing though. I’m proud of my play, and this is the second time I’ve made it deep in the tournament (a while ago, I bubbled in 10th when 9 spots paid out of 58). I resolved to accept my fate.

Ilan, meanwhile, took 4th for $350+. Two for two for our crew of merry gamblers. He also won the last longer bet. Kudos to him.

When I first sat for the tournament, they actually put me immediately to the right of Roose. I was VERY pleased this time, mostly because I had arranged a little surprise. About two months ago, I told Hole about an idea for a prank. In the meanwhile, we had made t-shirts with Roose’s face and the words Dead Money across the top. I wore it covertly under my other t-shirt until the tenth hand of the tournament. I stood up, stretched, and shed a layer. The players noticed my movement and looked over. I saw a bunch of smiles cross their faces. Roose then turned his head to see the shirt. We all had a good laught at, erm, with Dave, and then settled in for some poker. Ironically, Roose was the first person out from the table.

More to come later, but for now, enjoy!

When I woke up on Saturday morning, my dreary eyes strained to see the clock. It was 9:23 a.m., and while my eyes and brain demanded that I go back to sleep, the sound of the bansaw in the room and the urge to use the bathroom kept me from that noble goal. As I got up, I carefully danced around the head lying on the floor. The bathroom door was 95% closed when I finally flicked the lightswitch. My head ached, my stomach churned, and I began to feel that nagging feeling once again. Here I was in a bathroom in an anonymous hotel room and there was poker waiting to be played 10 floors down and 100 feet down the hall.

As that urge to play slowly returned, I thought about the amazing events of the night before. I suffered my own humbling experience, but I was also a spectator to something great.

When Roose met me at the New York Eastern District Courthouse, I was already changed into my traveling gear of a loose linen shirt and convertible shorts. Minutes earlier, I was getting my admission into the Brooklyn Federal Courthouse and then changing in their roomie handicap bathroom stall, and now I was on my way to AC in my grubbiest of gear.

Unfortunately, the Courthouse was conveniently located on a closed street, a necessary requisite for a federal building in a New York borough. After 15 minutes of narrow misses and the assistance of one of New York’s Finest, Roose and I found each other, and were on our way to Atlantic City.

We were in our hotel room when we realized that we were short a hotel room for the Saturday night party. We had two rooms for 13 people, but the Showboat was booked, so we would have to make do. Friday was really just Roose and I, with a (very) late night appearance from Robbie and Randy Hole. Or so it was planned. By midnight, the Holes were already dropping off their luggage in the room, and Ilan and his future brother-in-law were on their way. Do that math, folks. 6 degenerates, one room, two beds. I guess someone was not going to be allowed to sleep.

Roose’s parents were in AC on the same weekend as us. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. After a dinner with them at Showboats buffet (I give it 3 out of 4 stars), Roose and I made our way over to the House of Blues poker room for our first tournament of the trip. It was only 8:30, so we paid our $75 for the 10pm tournament ($60+15, instead of the expected $50+10) and settled in for some 1/2 NL in the meanwhile. The 1/2 table was decent, with some knowledgeable players offset by the usual scared fish. After my hour or so was up, I was exactly even, an unnerving theme for the trip.

The tournament kicked off with Roose and I at the same table. I wish I could expound on my play. I’ll leave it at this. My Superman t-shirt worked. No one believed any of my bets, and I got more action than desired. I also played stupidly. I was eventually busted before the first break. Roose, on the other hand, had accumulated a few chips. I wished him luck, stood up, and returned to the 1/2 cash games, slightly disappointed in my play, but accepting of my shortcomings. I was ready to win back my tournament buy-in at the cash table, and made my way to the table I sat at earlier in the evening.

A short while later, a tall black guy with a starkingly white t-shirt took the seat to my right. I don’t recall his name, if I ever got it at all, so we’ll just choose a name at random to indicate who this guy was. Let’s go with…Arsenio. That’ll do for now.

So, I’m playing tight, waiting to get my cards. I’ve accepted (thanks to Zen and the Art of Poker, something I read months ago, but is just sinking in now), that I will eventually get good cards. So, it isn’t my job to force my luck when it isn’t there. I just have to wait and feel when it is time to start making things happen.

Of my original 300, I was probably down to 240 or so. I was in the BB with KQc and when the action got around to Arsenio in the SB, he popped it from 2 to 12. I called, knowing that I would hit it or quit it. Plus, Arsenio probably saw an opportunity to push me and some limpers off of our hands preflop, and I was willing to look Arsenio up. He was clearly a “knowledgeable” player, and it wasn’t above him to raise with random cards when an opportunity arose.

The other players dropped out and it was just me and Arsenio. The flop was KQx, rainbow. Arsenio checked and I bet 20, in an attempt to look like a scared steal attempt. He flat called. At that point, I knew he had nothing. It was something about the way he called. Call it an instinct, but I put him on a weak hand, and I knew that the only way I was going to get more money off of him was to induce a bluff.

The turn was a blank, and when it checked to me, I checked as well. I wanted to look like I got my hand caught in the cookie jar in that $20 bet on the flop. When the river came down, a Jack, I awaited Arsenio’s bet. He said to me, “You got a pair?” I didn’t answer. “What would it take to push you off of this hand?” I thought I saw what was happening. He was fishing for information. He probably had KJ or QJ and thought he was good. I was slightly worried about a set, but only very slightly so. In the end, I really didn’t put him on much at all. I replied, “You’re going to have to go all-in.” “Okay. All-in.” “I call.” He had AT, and rivered a four-outter. I gave him that free card, but I still think it was a decent move. Had he missed, he would have likely bluffed. Had he hit a bare Ace, he would have bet as well. I was ahead of the vast array of hands that he could have. I had thought about AT, but I didn’t want to psyche myself out.

After that win, Arsenio jumped up from his seat. “YEAH BABY YEAH! WOOOOOOOOOO!” I gave a sidelong glance at his showboating, beyond anything I would ever do at the table, and gave an unapproving look. Arsenio began to settle down and put his hand on my shoulder in a gesture that said, “Hey man, sorry for the jumping up and down.” I looked at his hand on my shoulder, then looked at him. With my mouth shut tight and close and my sunglasses dipping just below the eyes on my slightly downturned head, I slowly shook my head, as if scolding a child for putting his dirty hands on my clean pant leg. He caught the ice cold stare and removed his hand. “I’m just excited.” “You can be excited, but you don’t have to go hooping and hollering. I’m sitting right here, buddy.” “Sorry, man.” I reached into my wallet. I had $25 or so left in the cash game, down $275. I lost $75 playing in the tournament. In total, I was down $375 and my (soft) budget was $500. My wallet confirmed this. A hundred dollar bill kept a twenty and five company. I expelled them from my wallet and put it on the table.

Lest you think I was tilting, I certainly was not. I still liked my check on the turn. He had a four-outter, and while he hit it, more often he misses and then bluffs. I was confident on this one. I should have probably kept silent, but from my vantage, I was trying to induce a large bet from Arsenio. I was actually quite calm during his theatrics, but I wanted to put him in his place because I didn’t want him thinking that he was in control. I was.

Over the next several hours, I played my ass off. I made solid reads. I had solid hand selection. I grinded my ass off. For a moment, I thought I was screwed. Down to my last $150, I didn’t relish the idea of going broke the first day. But at the table, those things cannot concern you. As I worked my way back, something else happened across the room. Roose had stuck around in the tournament, and I realized that he was, in fact, on the final table bubble. Earlier that night, Roose, unasked, offered to give me back my buy-in if he placed in the tournament. I wouldn’t accept it if he placed low in the tourney, but whatever the case, I was still rooting him on. Randy and Rob had arrived and were railing him. As I found myself down $50 (from my low point of $300 hours before) I felt good about climbing my way back from my losses. I felt even better when I saw Roose stand up from the tournament. There were only about four or five players sitting with him, as far as I could tell. I stood from my table and walked over. I fully expected to hear about Roose’s money finish. I didn’t expect to hear the number…1. The others were just waiting around the table to get their pay.

That’s my boy! Roose, the hero of the night, cashed for $850, $75 of which came my way. In actuality, he had chopped first and second, but the effect was the same. Ilan strolled into the poker room with brother-in-law tow, and the crew hit the room for a bit of decompression.

More to come…

I’m giddy as a school kid on Christmas Eve. In less than 6 hours, I’ll be on my way with Dave Roose and Randy Hole to the happiest place on Earth…Atlantic City! How exciting!

The plan of attack is to make it to AC by 7pm so we can enter the $40+10 tournament at the Showboat. If we miss that, the plan will be to enter the $40+10 at 10pm. I recently spent some time on the telephone with the floor at the Showboat poker room. I’d rate it as one of my favorites because of their great tournament structure ($50 gets you 5k in chips with 20 minute levels) and the high-styling of the House of Blues-themed room. It’s less House of Blues and more class act, with dark wood, spacious interior and large open entrance. The games are a bit thin, mostly just 2/4 limit and 1/2 no limit hold’em, but the players are a nice range, if a little tilted toward the fish side of the talent scale. Its also relatively safe from cheaters, and big time sharks considering that it is next door to the Trump Taj Mahal, which contained the largest (and dirtiest, and allegedly cheating-est) poker room in Atlantic City prior to the Borgata’s new expanded 85-table room.

Just typing this is making me excited. Poker poker poker. At least for tonight. Oh, and tomorrow morning (11am $40+10 tournament as well). Once the rest of the crew rolls in on Saturday afternoon (Robbie Hole is expected at about 2am), the poker will likely be supplanted by booze (and poker). Thankfully, this crew is a gambling lot, for the most part, so getting my fill shouldn’t be too difficult. Of course, we have a lovely dinner planned off of the Boardwalk (stupid Boardwalk restaurants are all full), but then we shall return to the hotel for the, um, entertainment. I think they ordered a clown or magician or maybe a chick who will take off her clothes and do stuff to another chick. I’m not really sure, but any of those are a possibility.

What more can I say? It’ll be poker, booze, and strippers, the trifecta of AC vice! Is there any reason NOT to be excited. I can’t think of one.

Not to be outdone, I’ve also booked a room for the Bash at the Boathouse. The plan is to split the room with TripJax, who has already booked his flight. It’s all coming together.

AC in 5 and a half hours, the Bash in a month and a half! Until then, make mine poker.

Pack up the liver, boys, its time to get going…

I was playing a Heads Up SNG last night (I ultimately lost…stupid read), when I stumbled upon a concept that may be new or odd to some of you. To others, you may disagree wholeheartedly, but here at High On Poker, we value critical thinking and strive to challenge the conventional wisdom of poker. Or maybe what I’m about to expound on is just plain obvious. We’ll see…

I was playing heads up, and my opponent and I were both on the ropes for periods of time before returning to a nuetral 1000/1000 stance. At those moments, when blinds were still 15/30, I found myself raising preflop with J7o, 25d, K4o. As is customary with heads up play, the main ingredient is aggression. Half of the time, your opponent will have a worse hand than you. Logic dictates that most of the time, they will also fold to a raise, since their hand is likely not worth calling with.

As the sizes of our stacks shifted, and I found myself with the upper hand, my steals continued. However, they slowly decreased, to the point that I was willing to actually fold a small blind. This is part of the natural Ebb and Flow of heads up poker, and, in fact, is part of my Ebb and Flow strategy, discussed many months ago. Eventually, the tides changed, due in some part to a loose call on my part (its vague in my head, but the scars are still there).

While I found myself with less chips than my opponent, I still made a conscious effort to keep the aggression on. If I can steal enough blinds or steal hands on the flop after my preflop bet is called, I could work my way back to even and then take the upper hand. In fact, I did work my way back to even, but this was a long game, and we already know the conclusion.

Finally, down to my last 400 chips, I tightened up. When I got down to my last 200, I went back to wild and loose. After all, I was on my last legs, so anything would have to do.

Where is the epiphany, you ask? It is this: The closer you are to even in chips, the more aggressive you should play. The more disparity in chip stacks, in either direction, the tighter you should play. The sole exception of the rule is when you are in desperation mode, with less than 10x the Big Blind. In those cases, push away, my friend, as you are already on your last legs.

When the idea came to me, I thought that it was immediately counterintuitive. Logic would dictate that when you are even, you should be most cautious. You could potentially lose it all on one hand from a position of nuetrality if you overplay or misplay. You are also looking to gain that little edge over your opponent, that crack in which you can thrust your poker Jaws-of-Life. Likewise, when you are dominating your opponent, take those coinflips weighted in your opponent’s favor, since you are giving yourself a 40% chance to win it straight out, but if you lose you will still dominate.

Now flip it. To me, the most important part of HU play is to keep the chip lead. When you are even, that chip lead, albeit even if only by 30 out of 2000 chips on the table, is crucial. It provides a mental edge, a feeling of dominance, and a small safety net (more emotional than logical) from going broke. Aggression is key. Take those small pots. It may not seem like the 30 will matter, but its part of asserting your own rhythm to the game. You want to be in Flow mode, where the bets just keep on coming and your opponent, thinking he is clever, is folding away and waiting for his spot to re-raise you with a monster hand (at which point, you will cleverly fold). I am not talking about huge raises here either. 3x the BB is more than enough at this point. Most players play tighter, because they feel like they are starting from scratch. Assert yourself, let them play tighter, and start to open up that lead.

As you feel yourself pulling away with your lead, you may feel tempted to keep pushing your luck. Go right ahead if the flow is right, but be ready to change gears and play tighter. Hopefully, your opponent has gotten fed up by now and will begin reraising with KJ and QT. Hence, some tighter play will get you far. You don’t want to give up that chip edge that you have. Rather, you want to slowly chip away at your opponent’s stack until he is at the point of desperation. Folding will actually help this, because he’ll get comfortable with raising with less than optimal hands. When you get that big hand, you can re-raise, hopefully not too large, since you want to take the lead and keep the fish on the hook. Regardless, the key is to not give any extra chips away while you fold BB and SB, building your opponent’s false confidence while keeping your significant lead. I give you 1400/600 or even 1300/700 as a benchmark for this kind of thiking.

Once you are dominating, say 1600/400, you may be tempted once again to loosen up. After all, if you push and lose, he’ll only have 800 to your 1200. It is certainly an okay move. But I think that we all too often rely on luck once we have a large lead. If you were to continue playing tight, you may be able to find yourself with a dominating position over your shortstacked competitor once all the chips go in. It’s an obvious thing, but something we often forget in the heat of battle. Ironically, tightening up makes sense when you are the dominant leader, since you are looking for the death blow, and not just a cointoss to win the whole shebang. Admittedly, this is probably one of my weaknesses. I will add, however, that the second exception to the rule of HU Inverse Aggression, is where you are exceedingly dominating. When it is 1800/200, just go ahead and push with any two over Q7o (the statistical middle value hand in NLHE). At that point, you can afford to gamble, since if you lose, you’ll still have a commanding 1600/400 lead.

Now, let’s go the other way. You are even, and playing aggressively, but he has you beat, either through aggression or his hands. You are now on a shorter stack. At 800/1200, tighening up may be a good thing. You are moving away from even, and you really need to get back there. Loosening up will only give the big stack an opportunity to put pressure on you with a reraise. As you get closer to 400/1600, though, all bets are off. Go buck wild, because its either double-up or go home. As a caveat, if blinds are small enough (under 20/40), you can actually continue tight play. But once you are under 10 times the BB, its really over unless you can double-up or steal a bucket load of blinds.

In the end, I guess the chart would look something like a rollercoaster of aggression. At either extreme (1800/200 or 200/1800), your aggression should be high. As you get to that middle zone (1400/600 or 600/1400), you should tighten up and trudge your way carefully to a super dominant position or back to even. As you are even, you want to be aggressive and start pushing your opponent to a weaker footing.

Of course, this is all just theory. It’s the pontifications of a late-night HU player, one that lost, nonetheless. But there is something there, something worth thinking about, processing, and even exploiting. Don’t be surprised if you see me later tonight at a HU table. Until then, make mine poker!

As a person who has never been to the WSOP, I really am not qualified to pontificate on the problems facing the current WSOP. But that never stopped me before. In honor of the calamity that is the WSOP, here is Jordan’s suggestions for the future of the WSOP:

1. Multiple Locations- Harrahs owns multiple properties in Las Vegas, including the Rio, Harrahs, Paris, Bally’s and the Flamingo hotel. So why the hell is the entire event only held at the Rio? If Harrah’s organized themselves, they could spread the event to these various locations and skip having 5 versions of “Day 1.” My fear is that the major drawback is the filming process. For ESPN, this would require 5 crews at once, instead of one (or probably two) crews working the one room for five days straight. Of course, this will make reporting (from bloggers and such) more difficult, too, but overall I think it’s a viable option. It isn’t a new idea, either. When the WSOP was held at Binions there was at least one year when they were beyond capacity and had to set up part of the game over at the Golden Nugget or some such place. It would also add the allure of saying, “I made the final poker room in the WSOP!”

2. Higher Buy-In- The main event has been a $10,000 buy-in since 1972. With inflation, that amount should be over $40,000 today. If it were, the amount of players would significantly drop. Is this a bad thing? Probably not. Your pros would stand a better chance in a smaller field. Also, the logisitics of the event would be better. There is some concern about cutting out the average Joe. That is, in some ways, the allure of the game. But even if the buy-in was increased to $25,000 or even $40,000 (or dare I say $50,000), there would still be Internet qualifiers. Plainly put, where there is a will, there is a way. So, let’s up the buy-in and make this thing interesting.

3. Greater Variety in Games- Yes, NL Holdem is the bread and butter of the poker community right now. However, if Harrahs went to a multiple venue format, they could still have their plethora of NLHE events and squeeze in some more variety. Was there even a Razz event this year? I’ll guess that NLHE will be the top dog for a loooooooooooooong time. However, this doesn’t mean that the other games should be killed off. While we are at it, let’s get more TV time for the other games. I, for one, prefer to watch a 2003 PLO8 event on ESPN than the most recent WPT NLHE show.

That’s all for my list. Short and sweet. So, Harrahs, just email me and I’ll fill you in on the other details. Until then, make mine poker!

Being the Devil’s Advocate, and just an opinionated guy all around, I tend to randomly drop a post that could be taken in a negative light. Let’s keep this train wreck moving (is that possible?) by moving beyond the posts of yester-hour and focus on something positive.

After placing 2nd in a freeroll and netting $200 on Nine.com, I decided to try to finish the $150 signup bonus at the site. With that in mind, I returned to grinding away at the 2/4 tables, hoping in vein to see my new best friend MossMan. Sadly, Mossy was out to pasture, but I was able to find a slew of other soft players. More importantly, as soft as they were, I was hard…er, or, um, playing hard.

I have been stewing on my recent down-tick for a while. I am wary to suggest that I am out of the forrest. I am, however, in a good place mentally. This has a positive effect on my game, and as long as a little bit of luck goes my way, I’m in good shape.

The key to my success, earning about 22$ (before the Hoy) was not in pushing hands. Clearly, $22 is a small amount to win in a 2/4 game. It’s the equivalent of 5.5 BB, and it took me over an hour to reach it. However, limit poker is not about huge swings (although it can be in any given session), so I was happy for the slight uptick. The cornerstone to my success was good preflop hand selection. This does not necessarily mean tight, especially when I was down to play 4 or 5 handed. Rather, it means considering the opportunities a hand has, given the players, your position, and general post-flop play.

Its an interesting thing, this poker. I can point to my preflop hand selection or my concentration (which was actually subpar for some periods), but in the end, that elusive thing that I felt, well, its elusive. I don’t have a name for it, but its just like feeling the groove. I’ve written at lengths about the rhythm of poker, and even made (what I believe was) a good comment on Joe’s Hold’em Authority site when he was discussing the keys to HU success. That rhythm is probably my greatest strength when I can harnass it. It’s essentially one part observation, one part subconscious pattern recognition, one part luck, and three parts exploitation. Once you feel in tune, you just have to give in and play into what’s happening. Interestingly, I wonder if I felt the rhythm of my losses as well. There were many nights when I felt immediately that it would be a slobberknocker all night, and if I were to correctly exploit that “rhythm” I’d simply pass on the game all together.

Yes, I confess. I’m a feel player. I’m proud of that too, in many ways. I understand the math, probably as well as most poker bloggers (and a whole of a lot better than most players in general), but I’d rather have a feel for a game than have a calculator-precise mind.

After winning my $22, I decided to join the Hoy. The great thing about Mondays at the Hoy is that the higher buy-in ($20+2) makes it seem more important. I can justify donking away $10+1, but double that, and I feel like I’m playing with real money. Obviously the prize pool is larger, but also, I can picture that crisp $20 leaving my pocket. Apparently, I have no regard for the $10.

Whatever the case, the Hoy actually went well for me. I played tighter than usual and got respect when I raised. BTheCloser is one of the players who has traditionally given me trouble in these events, and I was able to counteract some of his play. I was also, admittedly, able to suckout to knock him out of the tournament.

About 45 minutes into the tournament, I was called away to spend some time with wifey Kim. When I returned, I was blinded down from $3k to about $2,400, well worth it to be with my woman. From there, I continued to play a smart game, working my way into the top three. Then I faced the hand that would wipe me out. I believe the culprit was Astin (more accurately, it was Lady Luck). I was in the BB when Astin made a small-ish bet from late position. I called with QJo. The flop was a lovely QJx, with no flush draw. I check-called. The turn was a K. I believe I bet out. Really, it didn’t make a difference. By the river, I was all-in and my QJ lost to KK. He hit his set on the turn, and I cradled my sack until it returned to its usual position.

That’s poker. I turned off the computer so that I would not tilt in some other game. I accepted the loss. I felt generally good about my play for the tournament, including a hand I took off of CC (which I don’t particulary remember, other than the fact that I was damn happy to win it).

I’m hoping to keep the momentum moving. I’m off to AC on Friday. I am actually hoping to contact Showboat and maybe Tropicana to get permission to photograph inside their casinos. Wish me luck, as what we do here in bloggerdom is an interesting area of “media.” Otherwise, I plan on playing poker until my eyes bleed and my wallet bulges. Just another weekend in paradise.

Until then, enjoy your poker. Thanks for reading.

Sometimes the vastness of the blogosphere is so mind-numbing that you feel like a grain of sand on a mile-long beach.

I should probably start with a semi-apology to blogger impressario SirFWalGMan. This is going to turn into a longer theological discussion on blogger-relations, but I think it is only appropriate to start with a bit of background. SLB is a newer blogger who made the transition from reader about a month ago. Like any newbie, he is still finding his way in poker. Hell, we all are, really. In a recent cash game against the Woffle, SLB sucked out, hitting a 2-outter on the river. Woffle was steaming, as per Woffle’s usual routine, and berated SLB in a private IM. SLB posted it, and I responded in the comments that SLB should not be sorry. I also stated that Woffle’s conduct was essentially bullshit.

My apology: Woffle, it is not right for me to pile on the hate because of something you said to SLB that has nothing to do with me. I was wrong. My apologies.

There is more to this situation then meets the eye, though. At least there is to the Devil’s Advocate of Poker Bloggers.

What this really comes down to is inter-blogger conduct. It’s a boring topic to any non-blogger, but I think this reached beyond that narrow idea, and into the larger idea of having a poker crew. I’ve discussed the importance of Community Knowledge before. Essentially, by working together and discussing hands and plays, we lift the entire group up. It’s one of the (if not the only) strengths of the poker blogosphere. At some point, though, with this many personalities, there will be tension.

What, then, should our individual goals be within this large informal group? Anyone who is serious about poker will tell you that when you are sitting at the table with a fish, you shouldn’t ‘tap the glass.’ You want that fish to stay fishy. This is, in many ways, a brutal game. It’s certainly a zero-sum game, where you win only if someone else loses. But when you are playing with fellow members of the community, the very community that lifts itself up through cooperation, where do you draw the line between teaching the fish and reeling them in?

This is ultimately a decision for each individual, and I would not fault anyone if they took the stance that they would not help anyone else out. That’s a poker player’s perogative. I, on the other hand, tend to be uber-inclusive, and part of that inclusiveness is my desire to share my thoughts on poker and play. It’s part of the reason why I started the You Decide posts. I wanted readers to discuss plays, especially when they disagree with me. It helps me to see how other players at the table will perceive me, it helps the commentors to work out a hand in the abstract, and it helps us all see a different perspective on the game.

It’s hard giving criticism to such an insular group, too. If someone were to say to me in all honesty that they thought I was a poor player, I would be hurt. If they offered me some insights as to how I could improve, well, I still would be hurt. But at least I’d have a starting point. We all, as egomaniacal writers and poker players, like to think that we at least have a basic understanding of what we are doing at the table. For the most part, it is true. I would venture to say that some have it a lot more than others, from either a naturally keen mind for poker or a lot of hard work. But ultimately, no one wants to hear that they suck.

Does this mean that as a member of an informal community we should not say that someone is a bad player? I say thee nay! We help that poor player by pointing out flaws. We might not want to do it because of their feelings or because of the money-making opportunity that such a situation entails, but if you are willing to help your fellow player, then telling the truth about their flaws is crucial. I remind you, that you can opt to keep your mouth shut and just enjoy the fishiness and I won’t blame you. That’s poker.

So, what does this have to do with anything? I’m not quite sure. I guess the whole point is this: we do not live in a vacuum. You will be held accountable for your actions. If you play a hand poorly, you will be criticized OR taken advantage of, and you deserve that. It is the community teaching you something. Likewise, if you get angry and steam at someone, you will be held accountable too. Frankly, the steam is just as bad for the steamer’s game as it is for the person getting flamed. I can assure you that after Woffle steamed at SLB, Woffle was not playing his A-game. So maybe we all need to take criticism a bit…lighter. Remember the source. Think about what has been said. React appropriately.

I applied these principles last night when I was chatting with Woffle. I thought to myself that my comment on SLB’s site was really just another pile-on. Woffle does tend to spew some viscious venom at the table, and I am sometimes the target. It annoys me to no end because I consider him in some regards a friend, certainly in the poker blogger definition of the word. I also consider him a good player when he is focused; his biggest flaw is his random forays into madness. In many ways, I look up to his game. So, when I saw him flame SLB, it bugged me. SLB is still finding his way. He needs encouragement. But here’s the real deal. It isn’t Woffle’s job to encourage SLB. I had to remember the source. Then I had to think about what he said, calling SLB out for catching a two-outter. This is not Woffle criticizing SLB for a poor play (at least not entirely). This is Woffle steaming at a bad beat. And now, to react accordingly: keep my nose out of it, and let SLB know that, while he got lucky, he should not feel apologetic that he made Woffle steam. That’s just part of the game.

So, Woffle, I do apologize for sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong. As a word of advice, take some deep breaths. No one expects you to change, but I think a little less steaming (even at 2-outters) could only help you. More often than not, I think you know this, but we all have our moments.

Now, Woffle, I have a challenge for you. I consider you one of the more prolific and intelligent bloggers around. I think I have a way to boost your bankroll significantly. Sir Woffle, you need to start yourself some bonus whoring. You just play too much to not do this. So, if you are interested, I invite you to email me and I will gladly point you in the right direction. After all, in the end, my real goal is to elevate the players around me. It would be an honor to have a go at you, sir.

And with that, I bid you all adieu.