High On Poker

I can’t help but feel like I’m a good poker player. The results this year aren’t bad. I’m up above $2k for the year so far in live poker alone. Add it online poker and its slightly different, but not different enough to matter. The thing is, I feel 100% confident that I can win every single time I sit for a live poker game, especially the cash games.

The trend continued with two more wins this weekend, the first at a law school friend’s homegame and the second at NiceLook. For the homegame, I didn’t really put much effort into note-taking for obvious reasons. Namely, I didn’t want to look like a tool and I didn’t want to out the blog. The homegame was a uncompetitive environment. There were just six of us and we met in a private social club in the city. The location was really not my cup of tea, and frankly, before this game, I didn’t know such things existed.

The Club is a private home previously owned by a very famous person from the past (think 1800s). You probably won’t even know him by name, but in the effort to keep semi-anonymous, I’ll leave out any further details. It is a multi-story building, and we met in the downstairs Grill. I was first to arrive, with just the host, John, and his wife, Nina, waiting around. I made small talk, and tried to get comfortable in the environment. Even though the grill is probably the most informal part of the club, I was glad I swapped my usual superhero emblem apparel for a tasteful navy polo shirt and jeans.

Soon after, Chuck showed up with his girlfriend, Kelly, and a female co-worked of John’s arrived. Her name was Daina or Diana or Danielle. I am HORRIBLE with names. The real problem is really one of confidence. Even after I hear a name or recall it, I’ll second-guess myself. If your name is Kristin or Christian or Christina or something similar, I’ll apologize to you right now. Even if I remember that you are “Kristin”, I’ll avoid using it, because I have no confidence in my recall. I used to think I had a terrible memory, but within the last month, someone set me right. I have terrible long-term memory, if anything, and a great working memory. Otherwise, I’d be horrible at poker.

The game was played in the grill on a long wooden table. No cash was exchanged until the end, and we all started with $20 in chips. We played an orbit of .25/.50 NLHE. I made the first raise of the night on the first hand with AJ and got one call. The flop was JT7, and I bet out. I was called by Chuck. The turn was a blank and I bet out, but Chuck pushed all-in. I had about $15 left, so I folded face-up. He showed T7, for flopped two pair.

I kept the game moving and I was my charming self. After the holdem round, we played a round of Stud hi/lo regular. There was no qualifier, and no declare, which made for an interesting game. The host usually played declare, but they had to open it up because all of the girls were newbies and fairly clueless.

There wasn’t much else going on. It was a fun time and everyone was friendly. The game ended at about 10:30, which was fine to me. I wanted to go home and see wifey Kim. Also, lately I’ve been preferring short sessions, for whatever its worth. I cashed out $35 richer and headed home.

Sunday, wifey Kim had another conference, this time in Manhattan. I started my day with some laundry, and then lazily headed over to the club. When I arrived, there was a list, but after about 5 minutes, I was called to a 1/2 NL table. I saw some familiar faces, including a very sharp Asian guy, a very loose aggressive angry card-chucking Asian, and Carbon Monoxide. CM is a female player who is a silent killer at the table. There was also a sleepy Russian player with about 2500 in front of him who looked strikingly like mob boss John Abruzzi from Prison Break. To his left and right were players with 1000 and 1500. Looking around, it was clear this was a deepstacked table, so I tried to keep quiet. I was down about $50 when there was commotion over an empty seat. A new player sat and was playing his first hand, while another player complained that he asked to be moved to the table, and that was his seat. I saw an opening, as I was having no fun in the 20 minutes I sat at the table. After I folded, I turned to the guy and said, “You are at the other 1/2 table?” “Yeah.” “I’ll switch with you.” I racked up and he gladly accepted as he thanked me. Sucker! I was going to a table with much smaller stacks and clearly crappier players.

The new table was a wet dream. A gay guy named Fred was on my left and he wouldn’t shut up. He was constantly joking around or making funny (ha ha funny, not queer funny) comments. It was somewhat annoying, but I decided to play along, preferring to make friends with the player to my left. He also started showing me his cards after I folded, so being friends had other advantages as well.

For about 10 or 15 minutes, I basically limped and folded. Finally, I was dealt 55, and channeled my inner Fuel. UTG, I limped, and a young Asian player in MP/LP raised to $20 total, a seemingly large bet if you didn’t know such things were fairly common in the NYC underground 1/2 games. He got one caller from the button and I called as well, hoping to hit my set. The flop was AK5, with two clubs. This is a near perfect flop; it loses points for being suited. Regardless, I checked, knowing full well that a bet was coming from any Ace out there. The same Young Asian called. He is a bit of a beanstalk-looking kid with a bulbous head and round mouth. He really looks like an idiot, and my prior experience with him in the NYC clubs were in line with that theory. He bet $20 and the button called. I called. The turn was a Queen. I wasn’t worried about JT considering the action, so I checked and expected another bet. He bet out $50 and the button folded. I considered my options. I had to re-raise here. A min-raise could possibly work, but I didn’t have that much in front of me. I decided to push all-in for $161 more. It felt like an overbet for value, and I was hoping he was going to call with top pair. I stared him down like I was going to kill him. I wanted to look like I was bluffing and I thought the staredown was a good reverse-tell. As much as I think the kid is a tool, he’s played enough, so I hoped he knew the basic strong-means-weak tell. He called and the river was a Queen. I tabled my full house and he showed AK. Just a standard cooler-hand on his part, but I’d like to think that I could’ve folded if I were him.

I made my only significant mistake of the day a few hands later. After some limpers, I raised to $15 with 88 on the button. The SB, Fred, and UTG called. The flop was all unders, 257. It checked to me and I bet $20. Fred called and UTG folded. The turn was a 4. Fred checked and I bet $20 again, hoping to just keep him passive in the hand. I wasn’t 100% confident after his call and I didn’t want to throw money at this pot. He raised me $50 on top, and I thought for a moment. I rationalized that he was probably making a play since I didn’t increase my bet from the flop to the turn (usually a sign of weakness). I called. The river was a blank. He bet $75 and it seemed like a very high bet in reference to the table (and not the pot). Since it was so uncharacteristic, I called and he showed A3o, for a turned straight. I should’ve known better.

A little while later, I limped with KxQh UTG. There were about 4 limpers when the SB raises to $20. I decided to call, as did four or so other people. The flop was 983, all hearts. I had the third nut flush draw, but that wasn’t saying much. The SB pushed all-in for his remaining $43. Considering the amount of money in the pot, I was considering my options. I thought of isolating, but decided against it, since I may be facing a flopped flush behind me. Instead, I feigned like I was contemplating a raise and decided just to call. I wanted to look strong to push everyone else out. I knew I had two overs to the board, and inside straight draw and a decent flush draw against one person, and I didn’t peg the all-in player as having much. Everyone folded. The turn was a blank and the river was an offsuit Queen. We showed our cards and my KQo beat AxKh. In other words, I got lucky, but I am glad I put myself in a position to get lucky.

I made another foolish mistake by playing Q9s and getting into a trouble hand. I believe I limped or maybe called a small bet ($10 max, or maybe just a $5 straddle) and three players saw the flop, including the beanpole Asian kid. The TTx flop was useless and we all checked. The turn was a Queen, and I thought my pair was good. I checked again, as did beanpole, and the button made a $15 or $20 bet. I called, and beanpole did too. The river was a blank and I bet out $25 or so. Beanpole pushed all-in for probably $35 more, and I felt committed to call. He showed QT for a turned fullhouse, and I was the huckleberry in that hand. I shouldn’t have played Q9s in the first place.

After a while, I was dealt JJ in early position. I raised to $12, since $20 would likely win me the $3 blinds only. I got called in a couple of spots. The flop was QJ4 with two clubs. With middle set, I bet out $25, part of my bet the set strategy. A smart looking caucasian player in a green fleece raises to $60 total. When it got back to me, I considered my options. I wasn’t sure what he had, but I was sure he was strong. I was considering raising to $150 to ruin his pot odds for the flush draw, but ultimately decided to push all-in for $301 total. I was confident that I was currently ahead, and I also thought I could reel him in for a big payout. He considered for a while, and I began hamming it up, even joking that “Let me pretend like I’m on TV” as I stood up, paced and made faces and moans indicating that I was stressed. It was a big goof and I was having fun, but ultimately he folded 44 face up. Fred started to critique his play publicly, announcing that he folded the best hand. I mucked and kept quiet until much later, when I told the guy the truth. He seemed like a smart guy and this too fell into the “make friends” strategy to longterm poker success. In hindsight, I suppose I should’ve bet less, but I did take down a $100+ pot.

My next big hand was TT in the SB. There were two limpers before a long-haired pretty boy who had just sat down with about $100 raised to $12 on the button. I hadn’t seen him play yet, but his look and stack led me to believe he was fishy. I raised to $25, hoping to isolate, and was successful. The flop was A67, and I was upset to see that he probably hit his Ace. I checked and he checked. I knew enough to know that he didn’t have the Ace. The turn was another Ace, and I was feeling much better about my TT. I bet out $25 and he called with a slight bit of hesitation. The river was a blank and I pushed all-in. He only had about $40-60 left, so I felt comfortable with laying the pressure on him. He folded and I was vindicated.

In another hand, I was dealt QQ, and faced a straddle for $5. I raised to $20, expecting to narrow the field, and got two callers, including a black guy who had just sat down an orbit earlier and was playing horribly. He was overaggressive, making plays with A7o and the like, and I had him set as my mark. Fred was complaining about him, referring to him as the Big Bettor, but I kept repeating, “That’s my bread and butter over there.” The flop was KQ2. I flopped a set again. I bet out $40, expecting the Big Bettor to raise like he seemed to do in every other hand, but he folded as did the other player. I wondered if betting the set was smart, but I still stand by the play.

In the last significant hand I played, I got my piece of the Big Bettor. I had AKo in MP and the player who folded the set of fours raised to $15 in EP. I just called, not wanting to throw money into the pot with two high cards. I was also readying myself to leave within the next 15 minutes. Fred called and then Big Bettor raised to $60 total from the button. The Set Folder folded. He was all too proud of his folds, something I’ve exhibited in the past. When it got to me, I considered my options. I could call, and then fear Fred’s action, since I knew Fred had it in for the Big Bettor. I could fold and give up the $15, but the Big Bettor’s range was wide. I could raise. Ultimately, I decided to raise. The Big Bettor was not on his third buy-in (or more) for $200, having busted just one hand prior. He was definitely tilting and acting incredulous that his A7 lost to A8! I knew he was playing those weak Aces, and his $60 raise seemed like someone trying desperately to win their money back as soon as possible. I raised to $300 total, to make sure that I covered Big Bettor’s stack and scared off Fred. Fred flashed me his 88 and folded. Not surprisingly, Big Bettor called. The flop was all low cards. The turn was an Ace. The river was a King. I had hit two pair and tabled my cards. He mucked, obviously upset, and justified his play to the players who were chiding him (intentionally to get him to tilt, from my vantage point). He admitted to having AT. My read was dead on.

I left the NiceLook with $230 more than I came with after some decent swings. I had reloaded $100 when I dipped below $200 at one point ($300 max), but otherwise, was never down more than $102 or so. Just another successful day at the club.

If anything, this trip was a lesson in table selection. I identified that the first table was too aggressive and deepstacked for my style and made the switch. Remember folks, if you can control the conditions under which you play, you can often control your success.

This week is less pokery than usual. I’ve got no plans so far, but wifey Kim is going to another conference on Sunday and I’m toying with the idea of a home game. But then again, why have a home game when the club is so profitable.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I am extremely busy at the office today, but I had to take 5 minutes out to post about yesterday’s tournament at Salami. The last time I was there with 23Skidoo, Skidz and I chopped first and second place in the $60 re-register tournament (like a rebuy tournament, but you have to repay the fee too) for a tidy sum of dough. Dawn from IHO was there too, and she went out 4th, so among the few people I knew at the game (there may’ve been one other), bloggers took down 3 of the top 4 spots.

This time, it was me, Matty Ebs, and Skidoo, we placed 4th, 3rd and 1st, respectively. A hearty congratulations to Skidoo, who rocked the game and had a massive chiplead once we were four-handed.

I could go into detail about the game, but I really don’t have the time. I played extremely well, except for a stupid play with the suited hammer. One hand, in particular, needs attention.

We were four-handed, and I was the shortstack with about 5,500 and blinds of 300/600, 50 ante. I was looking for a spot to push, and I was dealt K4d in the BB. At this point in the game, I had been playing tight for a while. I was hoping to use that to my advantage. With the decent blinds and antes, the pot was 1100 if it folded to me outright. However, Skidoo on the button, opted to limp while looking at me and saying rather nonchalantly, “He’s just going to push anyway.” He was right, too. I was planning on pushing. I figured he had position and a big stack, so his limping range was broad. I figured he’d fold rather than double me up, but if he did call, I might have two live cards, which was enough for me at this desperate point in the game. Matty Ebs folded in the SB and I checked in the BB. Why did I check? Because of Skidoo’s comment. “He is just going to push anyway.” It echoed in my head. If he knew I was going to push, then he knew that by limping, he’d need to have good cards. He’d also be likely to call me, even with not so good cards, because he already factored in the high probability (by his statement, a certainty), that I was going to push. I decided it would be better to see a flop. If I hit it, I can make my move. If I miss, I can fold.

The flop was TTK, a fantastic flop for me in this instance. I checked, expecting Skidoo to make a play. He checked too. The turn was another Ten. I believe I pushed all-in here. If I didn’t, then I at least bet and then called a raise all-in, but from my sketchy recollection, I pushed. The logic was that it would look like an overbet bluff, and I could get paid off. When Skidoo called, I remembered hoping that he had Ace-high. I also figured him for a King, so we would chop. But what I said was, “Show me the ten.” He did. JTo.

After the game, over drinks paid for by the very courteous (and flush with dough) Skidoo, I brought up the hand. He admitted that he made the “He is just going to push…” comment in order to get me to check. It worked, and the hand played out in his favor.

I have to say, I was impressed. I like table chatter, but that was a precise feat of verbal surgery he performed and the results translated nicely into cold hard cash. I give a lot of credit to Skidoo, and I thank him for that hand, because if nothing else, it made me aware of a new weapon, suggesting to a player (especially a shortstacked one) that you are expecting them to do a certain thing, so that they do the exact opposite. I suppose on some level it is rudimentary, but seeing it performed was fantastic, and definitely something I can see working on a semi-regular basis. After all, confronting a shortstack with their likelihood to push also implies your likeliness to call, and to an astute shortstack player, they will realize that much of the value of the shortstack push is to force folds and take the blinds.

So, kudos to Skidoo, who now officially owns Salami after beating the tournament in 2 out of 2 tries. Also, kudos to Matty Ebs for lasting until 3rd.

The HighOnPoker Poker Week Extravaganza commences tonight at a new homegame. I’ll be attending the homegame of law school friend/acquaintance John R. It’s actually held in some private club, I suppose akin to a country club of some sort in the city. The game is mixed, which is just up my alley, and the goal is to meet some new people and have a good time. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned the blog to John, so I’ll do my best to keep it hush hush so I can speak freely about it here.

Saturday will be an afternoon of alcohol-induced tomfoolery courtesy of my younger brother’s birthday. Sunday, wifey Kim is at a conference, so I’ll be playing at NiceLook, assuming I haven’t OD’ed on poker before then.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Sometimes, poker is just weird. I went to the Extra Big Bet Club tonight with the intention of playing and winning the Team Poker tournament with my all-star team of me, Mikey Aps and Matty Ebs. When I arrived, the rain was pouring heavily, and Mikey Aps had called to let me know he was running late. Our plan was to arrive an hour before the tournament, since only ten teams could play, but since Aps was running late, I went inside and prepped for some poker.

I had changed into my poker gear at the office. I’m sure the Second in Command around here must’ve thought it odd when I was dashing around the office last minute in a $uperman t-shirt and grey cargo track pants, but I have little shame. When I arrived at the club, Ebs was already at a 1/2 NL table. I was watching the table and got a good feel from the players almost instantly. Yesteday, I watched a You Tube clip that was supposed to be an FBI interrogator talking about reads and how they apply to poker. It was a waste of time for the most part, but he did offer one piece of advice. Don’t watch the lips. Don’t watch the eyes. Watch everything. I like to focus on particular tells, but sometimes if you can open your eyes to everything in front of you, you can “sense” what the person is thinking. I liken it to the concepts in the HoP-highly-recommended book Blink by Malcolm Gladwell. The idea is that your subconscious is putting together all of these subconscious clues and hints, and that “hunch” you have is actually your brain processing information that you can’t readily perceive on your own. For instance, I think I mentioned micro-expressions here. I did a You Tube search of that as well, and when I was watching one video, it would show people alternatively lying and telling the truth, and it would name the micro-expression in text when it showed. I found myself watching the mouth and then seeing the text say “Rapid Blinking.” I didn’t notice, because I was so damned focused on the mouth. So, basically, I was getting reads on players and noticing specific things like how one player shuffled his cards or how another threw his bet in forcefully, but I was also soaking in the totality of their demeanor.

Damn chain-of-consciousness posts! I didn’t expect to get into that today at all.

Moving on, as I waited for Aps to arrive, I noticed it was sweltering in the room. The EBB Club is seemingly always packed, and when you have a small-ish room with so many people and little ventilation, the place just turns into a furnace. I have two pants that I like to use for poker. The first are army green cargo pants with a shit-load of pockets, most with zippers. This allows me to carry everything, and the material is fairly breathable. The other pair is a grey pair of convertible cargo pants. Aside from the usual pockets, the grey pair only has two velcro pockets right above the knees, sufficient to hold my money and other trinkets. The real benefit to the grey pair, however, is the fact that they are convertibles. For you uninitiated, that means that I can unzip the pant legs and make them into shorts. I love this in a poker room, because I hate to be at the whim of the room’s temperature. Either its too hot or too cold, and often both, alternating, so I like to have a hooded sweatshirt and pants I can roll up or turn into shorts. In a way, I follow the boy scouts motto of always being prepared. I suppose it may seem anal, but to me, its just smart. Take care of all of the things you can control for optimal conditions, like climate in this case, and just concentrate on the game.

So, I unzipped my pant legs and waited for Mikey. There was a chance the tournament was not going to happen, so when Mikey arrived, we joined Ebs at the same 1/2 NL table. After about 45 minutes of play, we had to get up for the tournament, but during that 1/2 NL session, I lost $11 and experienced a very interesting situation.

This hand could only happen in the Twilight Zone. I had 45s and was UTG, so I limped, hoping it would limp around. The flop, if recollection is correct, was J88 with two spades. It was actually a fairly tight table, so I bet out $12, about pot, and got two callers. The first caller was a small Asian kid with messed up teeth and a round head on a skinny neck and body. He was super shortstacked with just $30 or so before the hand, and now he had only $16 left after calling me. I think the other player, who may’ve been Ebs, folded. The turn was an offsuit 3, doing absolutely nothing for me. I checked, he pushed all-in for $16 into a $36 pot, and I called. The river was an offsuit 2. I had the worst possible hand! WORST! Obviously, there was no more betting since my opponent was all-in. We stared at each other for a few seconds and he said, “You have the full house?” I mumbled my reply as my headphones played quietly in my ears, “I’m not showing first. I called you.” Remember, this is one of my key points of advice. If he is the last aggressor, make him show first. I don’t know what he thought he heard, but after I said it, he mucked his hand. The pot was pushed to me, and once it was all within my hands, I asked the dealer, “The pot is mine? He mucked.” “Yes.” Once I had confirmation, I flipped my cards face-up. I don’t think the guy even realized that he mucked the winning hand until another player asked him what he had. “High-card King.” “You had the winning hand, man!” I’m glad that guy pointed it out. I showed merely because I was trying to get the round-faced Asian to tilt some more.

We were called for the tournament, and we all took our seats. The tournament consisted of ten teams with three players each, paying $330 total, $300 into the pot and $30 to the house. Three single table tournaments took place simultaneously. 10th place at each table got 10 pts, 9th got 20, and so forth, until first got 100 pts. If you won your table, you also got $200, which Aps, Ebs and I agreed to split $100 to the winner, and $50 to each of the teammates. The single team with the most points at the end of the three SNGs would win the rest of the prizepool.

I’ll start with this. We didn’t win. In fact, I think it is safe to say that we lost…BIG. When the tournament began, someone busted on the first hand at Table 2. That person was Mikey Aps, and this is his hand: Aps has AQ in late position. Everyone started with 5k in chips, with 25/50 blinds. He raised to 300 preflop after a limper or two. There were only two callers, both acting before Aps. The flop was AJ3. It checked to Aps and he bet 650 into the pot. He only got one caller. The turn was a Q, giving Aps top two pair. The player, out of position, bets 1000 for the first time in the hand. Mikey decided to push with top two pair and was called by KT, for a turned straight. Discussing it with Mikey, I told him that it wasn’t really his fault. That was a tough hand, and he had a lot of reason to think that pushing was the optimal play. I know I probably would’ve done the same.

This is a TEAM event, so most players are playing tighter because lasting from 10th to 9th is worth as many points as lasting from 3rd to 2nd (10 pt increments throughout) AND you have other people relying on you. For that reason, there is no reason to think that someone is calling you preflop out of position with KT, and then calling another bet out of position with an inside straight draw and no overcards to the Ace-high board. I really can’t blame Mikey for not putting him on KT. The only things that Mikey should’ve been scared of was a set, but even that seems unlikely. Mikey has an Ace and Queen, so AA and QQ would require the other guy to have a the case cards. He could have JJ or 33, but that was the only real threat from how I saw it. Still, he lost the hand, and left fairly quickly once he was out. I felt a bit bad. It was his first time in an underground casino, so I think that may have thrown him off a bit too.

Good news, though. Mikey was not alone. I also went out in 10th! In my first hand, I held QQ. A chick in EP raised to 200 and I absentmindedly threw out a 500 chip. When you throw out a single chip, it is considered a call unless you announce otherwise before you toss in the chip. I meant to raise, but whatever! There was another caller behind me. The flop was Ace-high and after the chick bet out, I folded. She showed AK. At least I saved myself some dough.

I went on to see 99 twice and 66 once, and AQ or something like that too. This was all within very few hands, and I either kept missing the flop or it was readily apparent that other people hit the overcards or Aces that seemed to always flop. Mikey busted and everyone knew we were teammates, so people joked about how I needed to win it. I sincerely believed that philosophy too, so I began to look to how I could win 1st place at my table and take the $200 prize at the least.

My bets stopped getting respect after someone mentioned that I raised every hand. I was dealt 99 again and there were three limpers before me in MP. I raised to 300 total to try to take the hand down, but a guy in the SB raised to 1000 total. He was a tall, gaunt skin-head looking guy, sorta like Vinne Jones from the Guy Ritchie movies and Juggernaut from the X-men movies. These guys tend to play aggressive and stupid poker, so I decided to double-up or go home. I pushed all-in expecting him to have AQ or something. When he called, he showed 77. The flop had a 7 and I was out. I didn’t really mind losing since I played the hand perfectly. You can’t win them all. I told Ebs, who now had to win his entire table just to earn something back.

I was considering leaving, but it was barely 9pm and I knew wifey Kim wouldn’t be home yet from her America’s Next Top Model gathering with her friends. I went to the cage to get $300 in chips for a 1/2 table. When I was there, Ron, the tournament director, was panickingly looking for a AAA battery for the tournament clock, which just died. I had my old FM walkman on me, and I pulled out the battery. “I have one.” He looked shocked and extremely pleased. “Free half-hour on the house!” Sweet! At these games, instead of rake, each player pays $5 each half hour to the new dealer who sits. Free $5!

I sat at the table I left earlier because I had a read on one kid who barely looked 19. Most of the table had changed and it took a while before I noticed that I was the oldest one there. The rest were these skinny little kids, dressed tough in their Abercrombie. Honestly, they looked like HS seniors, or college sophmores at most. Most of them looked like they didn’t need to shave, and while they acted tough and cool, I could see right through them. A lot of them were also sporting the shortstacks, which I just love. I guess it makes sense, since these kids probably were spending their textbook money at the cardroom.

I stayed quiet, trying to build an image. I finally decided to bet out from the button with K5o. I bet $12 and surprisingly got three callers, including the round-faced Asian who mucked the winning hand earlier. The flop was AJx. When it checked to me, I fired out a bet of $20, hoping to take it down right there. To my surprise, the round-faced Asian moved all-in for $43 total, a mere $23 on top. To a greater surprise, the tall skinny Asian guy on my right called the all-in. I would’ve folded, but the tall Asian was a smart player and I knew he would check it down. With his money in the pot, the odds were right to call with any two, even though I had crap. I called and the turn was a Q. The tall Asian checked and I checked behind. The river was a T, giving me a straight! Twilight Zone, baby! He checked, I bet $15, and he folded. We showed my straight. One of the hairless boys said nice hand. He looked impressed. I played it down. “Sometimes it just falls in your lap.”

When I left the game after my free half-hour, I was up $95. Overall, I lost $35 on the night, including the $10 bet that Ebs, Aps and I agreed to. Ebs was still playing and eventually busted in 2nd place. The winning team had two 1st place finishes and a 3rd place finish, beating my guess that the winner would have a 1st and a 2nd.

I discussed the children at the NL table with Ebs over the phone after he lost the tournament. “Wait until the summer,” he added. “All the kids will be back from school with nothing to do. That room is going to be filled with fish.”

I prefer NiceLook for the class and space, but EBB has something more important: crappy players. Thank the lord for options.

I’ll be at Salami tonight playing the 7:30pm $60 tournament with 23Skidoo. If you’d like to join, hit me up with an email or leave your email in a comment.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Poker poker poker! I’ve been playing more and more live poker lately, with a marathon of poker expected in the next three days. I mentioned in my last post about the issue regarding stakes. Basically, if the stakes are too low, I am not turned onto the thing. This has some obvious exceptions, and the truth is, it is more of a cost-benefit approach to when I’m willing to play low stakes or not. Overall, though, this departure from my old “no stakes too low for me” policy is, I believe, a sign of development in my game and my way of thinking. Let’s delve into this a bit further.

From the get-go, I started playing very small stakes. Whether it was $1 SNGs online or $10 or $20 live tournaments with my friends, the real goal was to have some fun, play a game, and kill some time. I always wanted to play higher, but I didn’t need to. My policy was simple: as long as there was something at stake, be it $.10 or $10, the players have something to lose/win and therefore they would play somewhat realistically, as opposed to play money where all rules and logic are out the door. This actually helped me greatly, because I was willing to play anything, and I got more and more experience. Eventualliy, the bankroll grew, and I was amazed to be playing with whole dollars online (even just 1/2 Limit was a big jump). Live, I was still somewhat of a small fish. I preferred the $60 (at first $40, then $50 and finally $60) tournament at Salami over any and all other live underground poker, and I wouldn’t expect a homegame with anything more than a $20 tournament. Heck, the Roose game even dropped to $15 tournaments for a while, which was fine by me. I didn’t have the expendable dough, I didn’t have the experience, and I didn’t have the impetus to play higher.

And then came the Ship It Fish homegame. I was definitely playing outside of my bankroll, but the thought of playing random games like Badugi and Razz live was too much to turn away. I remember the first time I played in the SIF game, I had brought $300, a tidy sum for a guy who wouldn’t lose more than $60 on a given night. I was somewhat nervous, but I was even more excited. I ended up winner for $35 or so, but over the next two sessions at the SIF game, I went on decent runs, winning hundreds of dollars. Meanwhile, my casino game was getting better. I won about $700 in one session of 1/2 NL in AC at the perfect table. A while later, I won over $900 in a tournament in AC.

This basically swelled the bankroll over a long period of time. I’ll admit, to this day I am still not above $2000 live bankroll. I’m not too concerned of this, since I had withdrawn from those funds a couple of times when needed, and after a decent win, I’ll skim a bit off the top so that I get some practical use from the stack of $100s in my hidden spot. Still, the larger bankroll afforded me the opportunity to play 1/2 NL in some of the underground clubs in NYC, and thanks to introductions to EBB Club and the NiceLook Club by Chris, I realized that there were winnable NLHE underground games in NYC. Before then, it was just Salami for me, where the tournament was cheap, but the 1/2 NL had people buying in for $500 or more and throwing money around like they had disdain for their chips. The game could be profitable, but you’d have to have a very deep bankroll in order to handle the swings.

So, now I’m a regular 1/2 NL player and I’ve tried 2/5 NL once. Now what?

The bottom line is, I’ve realized that I appreciate the game more when the stakes are higher. I’m not talking 100/200 NL here. We are simply talking about 1/2 NL, but for a guy who has gotten most of his experience in low limit homegames and online games, 1/2 NL is actually bigger stakes. I was always comfortable with 1/2 NL in casinos, but that was a few times a year. Now, I’m aching for it a few times a week.

What is it all about? Is the fact that low limit turns me off a bad sign? Does it mean that I’m turning my back on the attitude that poker is for fun as much as it is for profit? Hardly. The reality is that I would still gladly play low stakes games, but I’m no longer the desperate player I once was. I can turn down a game that involves travel, be it to Brooklyn for Dawn’s weekly Wednesday game or Queens for Roose’s weekly Wednesday tournament, because I can get my fix in a casino. If either of those players lived across the street or even just generally in Manhattan, things would be different. But that’s not the case. So, in the past, I would jones for poker and when there was a game, I would get myself there, regardless of the stakes. I was wearing myself out, traveling home late at night tired and spending any profit on my travel expenses anyway (once I won $40 at Roose’s but missed the last train; I caught a cab and it cost $40 exactly to get home). Now, I can politely skip the games and go to the club, where the stakes cause more excitement (admittedly), and the travel is easy and cheap. I can win hundreds instead of tens, and what I lack in good ole times with my buds, I can make up for away from the poker table.

Looking at what I’ve written, there is definitely a dichotomy to my situation. On one hand, money does matter. I want to win money and lots of it. I want to build my bankroll and play higher stakes so when I have a good day, I’m bringing home thousands and not hundreds. That is definitely one of the elements that makes poker exciting. On the other hand, the other thing that makes poker great are the people, like the folks I met through Dawn’s game or Roose’s game or SIF’s game. From poker alone, I met a slew of people I would otherwise not have known existed. For the most part, I like them all, and for an anti-social prick like me, its odd to be “meeting new friends.” But that’s what poker does, in a way. It creates social interaction at the table and shows a commonality between the players. No matter how different I am from Redd from Dawn’s homegame, or Marc from Roose’s, or Chris from SIF’s, we know we have something in common, a love for the game. Those people are the same whether you are at a low buy-in game or a high one. In that regards, stakes don’t matter.

I guess what I’ve come to is that stakes matter to me, but in a cost-benefit way. I need stakes that make it worthwhile to play if there are costs to playing, be them lost sleep or travel time or travel costs. I am excited by the higher stakes, but I’d just as soon play lower stakes if the game was across the street.

Interestingly, this stakes issue applies to online poker too. I loathe playing anything under $20 tournaments, 2/4 limit, or .50/1 NL, but I’m not even bankrolled anymore for those games. So, I fire up a tournament and I play like shit because I’m just not tuned in. The exception is the blogger games. Why? The same reason as stated above, the people. In blogger games, I’m playing with people and my results matter more because these are people whose opinions matter to me. I can’t same the same for a random table of people because online, there is no interaction with the players at the table. I can sit at a table of strangers at NiceLook but by the end of my session, I sorta know the players and they sorta know me. Online, I’m just an avatar, and my actions don’t matter. The social aspect is gone, and therefore stakes matter so much more. It’s largely why I’m down to less than $40 online right now. I’ve donked a bunch and I can’t seem to get a good grasp on my game. The sole exceptions are the blogger tournaments, but I haven’t cashed in those in a while (the competition is fierce). Perhaps I’d play a $50 tournament online a lot better than a $5, but I’m not going to find out. No, sir.

So, my stakes have been raising live, and while I’d like to play higher online, I recognize that online poker sucks donkey balls. I’m proud to be playing 1/2 NL regularly and I look forward to making that next step when the time is right. Meanwhile, I look forward to times with friends away from table and at the table. Because poker is about two things for me right now, the people and the money. I can play with one and not the other, but in a perfect world, they would always be balanced.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I really do take things too seriously sometimes. Last night, I was up at about 1 am, getting everything together last minute for the court appearance I had this morning. I should’ve just gone to bed because it was all for naught.

When I woke up this morning, I was exhausted. I literally sat in bed wondering what day it was. I was still trying to convince myself it was Saturday when I looked over to the alarm clock. It was 7:14am, one minute before my alarm was scheduled to go off, and, luck of lucks, my alarm was set to off. I guess this was kinda a good thing, but I was immediately miserable. It was barely Tuesday and I was already living for the weekend.

Court this morning was a debacle. The Court messed up and made us wait a ridiculous amount of months for a conference, and then when we appeared at the conference, informed us that all deadlines would be based on our request for the conference, and not the conference date itself. As a result, we had lost many months, and lost many more when the defendants decided to play some shenanigans and hide the fact that we sued the wrong doctor (same name, same hospital, different doctor…motherfuckers). So, when I asked the judge for an extension today and some help in getting the defendants to provide the discovery requested, I thought I was on the side of the angels. I still am, I suppose. It’s just that the judge runs with the devils. Fucking devils.

Sure, this is pretty much what I complained about earlier, but its still hanging with me. Is it wrong to wish that people used common sense and logic, or at the very least followed the rules set out, be them by the legislature, the Court, or by any other authority. I mean this across the board. Why can’t people just do what they are supposed to do? Why does the waitress disapfuckingpear when I clearly want my check after I’m done eating. Isn’t the logical thing to give me my check? Why does everyone think that the rules don’t apply to them? Shit, I have no idea.

I believe in honesty and decency. I believe in doing what you are supposed to do, when you are supposed to do it. Do you have an appointment or an obligation? Meet it! Do you have a schedule or set plans? Show up on time! It really isn’t that hard.

But alas, that’s not how we, as people, are built. Instead, the vast majority of us are wrapped up in our own shit too much to realize or even care that our lack of common decency is dragging everyone else down with them. Misery loves company, too, you know. Don’t forget that one.

So it’s with all this in mind that I have decided that I probably will not be hosting a live poker game this Sunday. There are plenty of reasons why I shouldn’t throw the game, and the lack of common decency (or is it common degeneracy?) is one. I simply cannot expect people to show up at any predetermined time. It’s an interesting thing that happens at regular poker games. You invite guests to arrive at 7pm, and some show up at 7:10. Next week, some show up at 7:10, but the laggers are now showing up at 7:20. It’s like a lateness race! Who can be latest! I guess players are too concerned with waiting around, because it seems like no one wants to be there first, not to mention on time. Not me, though. If you are throwing a poker game and want the company, I’ll be there, on time, with my pre-packed backpack filled with all sorts of items to keep me happy while I wait out the masses. And I will wait, too. Lord knows it is all too common for these games to start an hour later than expected.

There are a couple of other reasons why I don’t think I’ll throw the game. One is that the stakes I’m interested in are probably not akin to what many of my less bankrolled/less experienced friends would agree with. I couldn’t play the IHO cash game on Friday or the usual Wednesday NL cash game Dawn throws because I just can’t play for .25 blinds. I don’t knock them for it. Hardly. I’m actually sorta envious, but I’ve gotten a taste for whole dollars, as in 1/2 NL, and I just don’t find anything less as appealing. I could maybe do it with friends in a pickup format, but I ain’t making a trip for lower stakes. Oh, and to the IHO girls, I’m not going all snooty on you. I’m a big fan and all that jazz. I’m just telling it like it is.

So, where was I? Okay, so grumpy wake-up, asshole judge, decision not to throw homegame. Yeah. That’s just about it. It’s time for me to open up the phone lines now. I could really use some of your help, people, and while I usually don’t get much in the way of responses, I know for a fact that someone out there must have some useful answers to the several questions I am about to ask. Here we go:

1. I’m oh so close to earning a free flight with my United Air Miles, and once I’ve got it, I’m closing that godforsaken account. Now, can anyone suggest a creditcard that gives good rewards without a fee?
2. I’m heading to Las Vegas in May for Roose’s bachelor party. Can anyone suggest a good sports book for the guys and I to sit and watch the Yankees v. Mets game on Friday night or Saturday afternoon?
3. While I’m in Vegas, I may need to hire some private entertainment (cough Strippers cough) for some entertainment. We have access to a condo out there. I don’t know what we have in mind other than broad(s) showing their ta-tas, but if anyone can suggest any such services, especially if they might be amenable to, um, extras, please let me know.
4. I’m looking for a good poker tournament $150 and under, ideally, for Friday daytime, Saturday daytime or Thursday night. Any ideas?

I think that’s it. Boy, I am quite the little bitch, what with all this bitchin’ and moanin’ and these requests.

Until next time, blah blah blah.

This pic is for the ladies of I Had Outs. Meanwhile, I am fighting the evil dragon in the form of an incompetent judge. I thought losing runner-runner full-house with my 24h flush was bad, but after this morning, I really felt the wind knocked out of me. While I would love to detail it here, I’ll just say that I was treated, once again, like the villain in a lawsuit where my client is a goddamn infant who was injured during childbirth by doctors who obviously used the wrong procedure. The judge, however, seems to act as though I’m some sleazebag lawyer trying to squeeze some money out of the pockets of the oh so poor insurance companies with my bullshit lawsuit. Sorry, motherfucker, but the system is made exactly for my clients and their predicament, and your handling of the matter is indicative of why justice moves slowly, if at all. Yeah, so, not too bitter.

Fucking judge.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey all. In case you missed it, I posted You Decide #50 earlier today. In that hand, I was in the Big Blind as one of the larger stacks with only 9 or so people left out of 19 that started the tournament. After a player in mid-position limped and the SB chipleader, who announced he had to leave very soon, called, we saw a flop, T93, all hearts (I incorrectly stated T83 in You Decide #50, but it doesn’t change the hand). I made a baby flush with my 24h and got into a raising war with the chipleader. In the end, I pushed all-in, he called. 24h vs. KhTx. Many of you agreed that pushing was the right play, and our assumptions about the SB’s range were correct. He called with top pair, second-nut flush draw. At the time, I had him on the Ah or Kh, so I was right as well. I wasn’t worried too much about the bigger flush, although that was definitely my major (and only) concern. At the flop, I was actually 68.38% ahead of my competition and I prayed that another heart would not come. It didn’t. Instead, the turn was a 9, and the river was an 9. I was ecstatic for about .02 seconds, and then I saw the full house.

If I had any doubts about how I played the hand, it was this: with this many players left, did it make sense to get all-in against one of the only (or possibly THE only) player who could bust me? I’m still not 100% sure. I got in as an almost 70% favorite, but I also believe that tournament poker is often about avoiding going all-in. I’m on the fence because, had I won, I would’ve been a prohibitive chipleader and I could’ve potentially coasted to the money and then been in great position to make a deal for good money. All-in-all, I’d probably play the hand the same way, though.

That’s how I got tossed from the I Had Outs tournament this past Friday. Losing like that was a real blow. I often write about how you should not focus on how others played. Yes, I’m anti-rant, mostly because I think the ranter gets little benefit out of it. In fact, I sincerely believe that the ranters (there are always exceptions, and if you’ve thrown out a rant or two, let’s pretend like you are that exception, since I don’t feel like arguing over this…no, really, you are the exception…rant on…) do themselves a disservice because they fail to see how they could have changed their fate. That is not to say that I don’t react to bad beats. I most certainly do.

When I first lost the hand, it felt like I was punched in the gut. I mean, literally, punched in the gut. I think a heart would’ve been easier to process, but runner-runner full house was a blow. It was very similar to the time that I bubbled in the Showboat tournament many many months ago. I remember I held AQ v. KQ all-in preflop, and when that K hit, I stood up, didn’t say a word and just walked as far away as possible trying to gather my thoughts. This time, I got up from the table, may’ve said, Good Game, and then walked away. Karol saw the look of shock on my face and suggested I step outside to join some of the people celebrating April 20th. I could use the air, so I walked out onto the balconey. From there, I chatted with some of the fellow players who had busted. I didn’t particularly mention the hand other than to tell them I had busted. I may have given a quick rundown, but only because they were surprised that I was out. Before that hand, I was a strong chipleader (although not #1) and I was playing extremely well.

A couple of the people tried to talk me in to staying for the .25/.25 NL ($25 max) cash game, but I couldn’t play that cheap. I was stuck $60 ($30+$30 rebuy), and anything less than .25/.50 $50 max seemed pointless (frankly, I would’ve been glad with 1/2). But I also felt that I was going to chase losses and go on tilt. I didn’t want a relatively minor loss caused by odds to turn into a major one caused by my own stupidity, so as I sat on the couch and we discussed the possible stakes, I finally had to relent and tell the room that I was heading home. It was just past midnight and I had had my fill for the day. So, I lost the hand, it tilted me, but I didn’t act on my tilt. To me, it feels almost like winning. Almost…

So, how did I become such a force at the final table? Actually, from the Crackhouse gang’s usual players, especially Alceste and Mary. At first, I was sitting at the main table with a bunch of players I didn’t know as well. I eventually gave up my first stack to Ron Lad, Karol’s brother, on two hands that saw him with monster hands and me with a stubborn refusal to recognize that I was beat or my bluff wouldn’t work. I joked as I rebought that I don’t play for real until my second buy-in. It seems like a trend at these games, but its likely more to do with the fact that, by the second buy-in, I know the table a lot better. For instance, Matt, a player I had never played with before, was clearly on tilt, playing tons of hands loosely and aggressively. I held 69h on one hand, and when he raised preflop, I called (along with another loose player) from the blinds. I knew he was ahead at that point, likely with a bare Ace or something similar, because he was willing to make preflop raises with as little as A7. When the flop came down 589, I checked. He bet out $500 (this is in the early goings, so that’s a big bet), and I raised to $1500. He folded and I heard him say he had AJ. The check raise with such a seemingly vulnerable hand might seem like an odd play, but I knew he was folding because he rarely ran into any resistance, at least in the early goings. Aside from this, I scrapped up some more chips as I tried to get to 6k, essentially my starting stack (3k) plus my rebuy stack (3k).

When I was moved to the other table, I sorta grumbled. The couch was a much worse seat for comfort, and I was playing with some of the Crackhouse (the name of the weekly low limit NL cash game) regulars. They all see me as loosey goosey (no matter how much I note their opinion of me here), so I was able to chip up nicely by taking out Alceste (his 99 v. my QQ), and winning a big pot off of Mary when she called me down with an unpaired AK, and my T6 had flopped top pair (I did, admittedly lead her on). To Mary’s credit, she made a great laydown in an earlier hand I re-raised her preflop with AA. She was definitely considering pushing all-in on top of me, but somehow she got away from her hand. I had assumed she was on something like AK, and when I said, “Big slick?” she looked at me like I was crazy. “What then, QQ?” “QQ!!” she replied, “I wish!” Later, I told her I had Aces. She had 88 or 99. It was then that she realized she was happy she didn’t have 88 or 99. Other big hands saw me bust a player when I played J8s in LP. The flop was a seemingly harmless 368 rainbow flop. When it checked to me, I bet out. The SB, a smart player, raised all-in. I had to consider the possibility that he got a SB special, two pair. I made the praying call though, and he showed A3o. Ka ching!

But alas, it was all for naught. I ended up losing, but I had an exceptionally good time. Thanks again to Dawn and Karol, along with all of the players. If all goes well, I may have even scored myself an invite to the Wall Street homegame. That’s a mere three blocks from my apartment, so I’m crossing my fingers and hoping that it happens.

This is a crazy week for poker. Aside from today and tomorrow, wifey Kim and I have our own separate plans for the rest of the week except for Saturday. Wednesday is her usual girl’s night to watch America’s Next Top Model. I’ll be at EBB with Matty Ebs and Mikey Aps playing our team poker tournament. Hopefully, 23Skidoo will be around on Thursday, and I will probably be meeting him and one or two other people over at Salami for the $60 tournament. Friday will see my first appearance at a homegame hosted by a law school acquaintance. It should be particularly interesting, since the game is mostly Stud variations and draw games. The players also seemingly have more knowledge than me in those areas, but also seem to be more social players, as opposed to for-profit players. Saturday is a day with wifey Kim, followed by Sunday, when she will be at some other conference, this time in NYC. I may be hosting a home game, but I’m just as tempted to return to NiceLook. After all, if I throw a homegame, I have to worry about gathering players, negotiate on stakes and then clean up after everyone leaves. I’m also usually more distracted during the game. At NiceLook, the stakes are set, the players are fishy, and all I have to do is remember to bring my sunglasses. Hmmm…

Until next time, make mine poker!

You are playing in a large homegame tournament, 19 people. You’ve sat at both tables due to rebalancing midway through the game. When the two tables merge, there are 10 or 9 players left, with 4 spots paying out. You are within the top three stacks with about 14k, and blinds of 200/400. You are in the SB with 24h.

A loose, smart player limps from MP. It folds around to the SB, a good player who has announced that he has to leave in less than an hour, and therefore must bust 6 or so people in a half-hour to make a deal and leave early. He is also the chipleader, covering you by about 3k (i.e., 17k total). He calls. You check.

The flop was T83, all hearts. You have the baby flush, the babiest flush possible. The SB checks. You bet about the size of the pot. The MP player folds. The SB raises back at you to 5k, total. If you re-raise you’ll be re-raising about 8.5k. Do you make the re-raise all-in, call, or fold?

I re-raised all-in. The results of this hand, along with my analysis, later.

Ooowee! Sometimes, poker just overwhelms my senses and I find myself in a sudden poker-induced high. This time, the high was brought on my a series of emails between Matty Ebs and myself.

When Ebs and I got the email from Extra Big Bet Club (EBB), we both noticed the team event. The basic premise has a maximum of ten teams consisting of 3 players each. Each player will play in a 10-person SNG. Obviously, each SNG will contain one member of each team. The teams will be awarded points based on how the teammates place. The teams with the highest points receive dough for 1st, 2nd, and, I think, 3rd overall points. The buy-in is $300+30, or $100+10 for each player.

From this email, Ebs and I shot around the idea of forming a team. We discussed possible thirds, and I immediately thought of Mikey Aps. Mikey Aps was the guy who got me into poker. As kids, I learned poker and all sorts of card games from my two grandmothers. One, who passed away last year, honed my card playing skills with a variety of games, but never fed the gambling aspect. The other, currently residing in (where else) Florida, taught me casino starndards like Blackjack, but also taught me a general love of gambling. This was the grandmother who suggested that the family go to Atlantic City for Thanksgiving (a tradition that lasted many years) because my mother’s sisters were engaging in a temporary but reoccuring fued. When I speak to her to this day, she is one of the few people in my family (actually, probably the only one) who will ask me how the poker is going before I bring it up first.

This, of course, is all by way of background.

Now, if my grandmothers taught me the love of cards and gambling, it was my childhood friends who solidified my love. My group of social misfit friends would spend many weekend eveninngs in one of our respective houses playing poker for $.25 a hand, then up to $1 a hand, and by the end of the night, throwing darts for $5 per dart throw. It was a great way to pass time. We could bullshit, have a little excitement, and enjoy each others company. We all loved to gamble on different levels, and Mikey Aps was one of the real gamblers. When the rest of us were just playing every weekend or less, Mikey Aps was in upstate NY at his family’s summer home thingee where the kids played cards for much larger sums of money all the time. From Mikey’s stories, it seemed that all they did was gamble, and he was keen on being the big winner. If nothing else, Mikey likes to win, be it a poker game, a sports bet, an argument, or a no-holds-barred wrestling match in his living room near the delicate statuettes and knick knacks acquired by his family. Mikey is the type of guy to show relentless aggression, but not thoughtless aggression.

Years later, when I almost forgot about those weekend games, I accidentally caught poker on TV. I thought, Who is watching this crap?, but after watching three hands, I found myself settling in for another hour and then setting my VCR to tape the next hour as I headed out to meet Platinum. A while later, Aps and I met up again from a hiatus that lasted for several months or years after college. He was playing poker, and I decided to join him for a home game. I don’t even remember if I won. I think I lost to a suckout to our friend Shawn, who had no idea what he was doing. But over many nights and games, Aps was my gateway into poker and the match that relit that fire inside of me.

When I began throwing home games, Aps was always invited. After a while, though, a couple of people complained and said that they wouldn’t play if Aps was there. He was an asshole, always showboating and talking shit. He’d also talk more trash if he lost, but people didn’t seem to mind it then, and it became a thing to try to bust Mikey. As much as they were right about Mikey’s seemingly rude tilt-inducing table chatter, I sometimes thought that the real problem was that it was working. Mikey may have been one of the louder players at the game (think Hellmuthian), but he was also the biggest winner, regularly taking down the tournaments with seeming ease.

Eventually the home games dried up. In recent months, I’ve barely seen Mikey. But thanks to the recent housewarming party thrown by our other HS friend, Johnny Ads, Mikey and I got to talking. He was interested in some of the underground clubs, and I would gladly get him in.

When I got the email about the Team Tournament, I immediately thought of Mikey Aps. It helped that he knew Matty Ebs. The two actually were family friends, and while I don’t think they see a lot of each other, familiarity with ones teammates is always important. It also helps to have Aps’ tilt-inducing antics on my side. Lord knows I wouldn’t want him on any other team.

So, now we had a team. All we needed was a team name. I suggested about 6, including NYPD (New York Poker Dep’t), the Nutcrackers, and Xtreme Kaos, but in the end, Ebs and I decided on simply High on Poker. It felt a bit odd naming the team “after” this blog, but I consider it more like naming this team the same as the name of the blog. We are each an equal partner, and the HoP name was an easy decision. It is catchy, it speaks a bit about our philosophy, and it was something we could agree on. Still, I’m damn proud. Team HoP.

So, who is Team HoP?

Jordan X- Your loyal author and faithful friend. My strengths are aggression, high-blind tournament poker and reads. My weakness is kryptonite.

Matty Ebs- To me, the most solid and well versed player of the group. Ebs is a former dealer, and he’s a thinker. His strengths are likely his in depth knowledge of the game, his experience in a variety of poker environments, and his ability to make smart plays when the time is right. His weakness is the vulnerability of his young boy sidekicks.

Mikey Aps- Gambler extraodinaire, Aps has been playing probably longer than anyone else on the team, but has yet to play in an underground club. His strengths probably lie in his sheer will to win, his tilt-inducing table talk, and his natural instinct for the game. His weakness is his inability to use his powers on anyone wearing yellow (I wonder if that includes skin-tone).

Once we have this illustrious group, the next question is how to play. We are in the process of getting the tournament rules, like chip stacks and blind structure, but we have not received them yet, and may not recevie them before the tournament. The way I see it, though, the points will probably be weighed heavily toward the top, so that no team could win by placing 5th across the board. In fact, with the tough NYC competition, I’m expecting that the winning team will have to win one of the SNGs and place 2nd or 3rd in another. For that reason, I think our best strategy is just to play our own games. We are essentially going to individually try to win each tournament, and its safe to say that the blind levels are going to be comparable to what we are used to (15 minutes minimum, 20 minutes max). So, rather than “play tight to the points” I think we should just bring our individual A-games, and trust each other to know what we are doing.

Oh, and while I hypothetically like the idea of some sort of team uniform or t-shirt, Mikey Aps made a good point last night over the phone. “If we know that one team is ahead, we should probably gun for their other players.” True, and that is why we are NOT wearing any sort of team uniform. I don’t want people knowing that I’m on their team, in case one of us wins their tournament and makes the other ones targets.

Sounds good? Good.

And while we are at it, I’ll be at the IHO tournament tonight. Wish me luck!

Until next time, make mine poker!