High On Poker

I’ll do a lot for poker. It’s one of the only things, quite frankly THE only thing, that I can do all day and night without feeling the need for sleep or food. It’s actually an interesting phenomenon. Similarly, I’ll jump through hoops for poker, moreso than I would for just about anything (but not anyone) else.

With that in mind, I planned my return to the NiceLook club early last week when I found out that wifey Kim would be attending Roose’s fiance’s bachelorette party. Wifey Kim’s friend was also in town, so she was out of commission for the night. Logically, this would put me at the club. But sometimes other things get in the way.

As it turned out, my good buddy Adler was having a “housewarming” party at his new apartment in mid-town. His guest list included a slew of people from high school, many of whom I really wanted to see. The party start time was 9pm, so I did some mental math and decided to go play some pokah at 4pm and play until 9pm. Ads lived nearby, so I planned to head there by foot.

All was set up…until wifey Kim realized that we were going to be away next weekend in Buffalo. That was also her mother’s birthday weekend, so we had to do a little schedule juggling. As a result, we ended up heading into Brooklyn Saturday afternoon to meet wifey Kim’s family for a birthday lunch. Without too much details, the lunch took its time. By the time we got to the subway heading back, I’d be lucky to get to the club by 4:30. I also was planning on meeting Matty Ebs, and from what I could recall, I thought he needed me to get into the club. So imagine my surprise when I got this text from Matt, “I will be there at 4:15. I’ll wait for you outside.”

Shit. Well, the subway was slow. I mean s-l-o-w slow. By the time I got home, it was already 4:45, and I wasn’t even ready to head to the club. Fortunately, Ebs is a crafty mofo. I called him and he was already inside, check-raising douschebags with the best of them.

I shed my clothes and packed my bag for poker and Adler’s party. Everything was packed up in 15 minutes, but I decided not to rush out of the door. I could feel the nerves and anticipation built up inside of me. All that waiting for poker did a number on me, so I had to take a moment to find some inner peace. When I felt ready, I kissed wifey Kim goodbye, reminded her to wish me good luck, and then headed to the subway.

This time, everything fell into place. The train arrived shortly after me, and it was running local instead of the usual express, so I’d be dropped off right in front of the club. I turned on my iPod and squeezed by a Midwestern family blocking the sweet corner spot where the conductor’s enclosed booth stands next to the door leading to the next train car. In NYC subways, there is a hierarchy of standing spots. This was one of the best, with room enough to be comfortable and stable things to lean against. I popped in my earphones and listened to some DogHouse, a local radio show that also puts out a podcast. As I took the train ride, I stood there chuckling to myself as the Midwestern family peaked over at me wondering what was so funny. Once we pulled into my stop, I grabbed my backpack and hit the door.

I was sporting my black dollar-sign Superman shirt, a clean pair of jeans, and an off-white zipped-down hooded sweatshirt. I went to the cage and bought my $300 in chips (the max for 1/2 NL) while I added my name to the list. I found Ebs after passing him by three times and calling his cellphone as I stood two feet away. His table was playing loose, nothing new for a NYC club, so after checking in, I let him get back to his game and focus.

It wasn’t long before I was called for my table. I sat down in the 6 seat, with a skinny Joe Piscopo wannabe (think SNL days, not his silly political career days) on my left. His name was Bob, and everyone seemed to know him. The table was full of 20-something Asian guys, and for the most part, they all seemed smart and sharp. There was a grumpy looking big broad older gentleman in the 10s, and a couple of half-Mediterranean-looking dudes who came a little while later. In the 8s was a young kid who looked like the stereotypical young gun. He had his wits about him and on at least two occasions, I had to seriously consider calling his huge flop continuation bets with less-than-optimal cards because he was exhibiting classic bluff tells. In both instances, he raised preflop, got buckets of callers (including me with 44 and AJ) and then bet out post-flop at least $75-100. He then would turn into a statue, staring at the board and not doing nothing else. Rule of thumb: when someone is bluffing, their natural inclination is to physically tighten up, so that they do not give off any tells that could get their opponent to call. Ironically, this very change in demeanor is a sign that they are uncomfortable with their hand, and in most instances SHOULD induce you to call. The kid had raised earlier with such hands as 79s, so he probably WAS bluffing in those particular cases. However, he also was fairly deepstacked, and since I was struggling to stay above $250, I didn’t have much leverage to push him off of his weak hands and I wasn’t willing to go broke with an under pair on a XXY board (when I had 44, the flop was 668), or two overcards on a ragged flop (my AJ hand). So, I had a read, but I couldn’t act on it, and I don’t particularly mind my folds. After all, a bad fold is a small error; a bad call can be a huge error.

So, let’s get to business. I tried to get a feel from the table, joining in lightly on conversations such as the difference between a hooker and a housewife. I dropped one of my favorite quotes (paraphrased) which I’ve dropped on this site at least once. Frank Sinatra once said that he didn’t pay the girls for sex, he paid them to leave when they were done. Love that Sinatra.

I made friendly and limped when I could. I love the theory of loose preflop and tight postflop, but its often easier said than done. I had to fold a bunch of times after missing flops, but I felt fine with the tempo of the table. I was down about $60 or so when I bet $20 cold with 27o. When four earlier limpers folded around to me, I offered to show my cards. Piscopo in particular seemed to want to see, as he was yucking it up about how I actually raised a hand. I offered to show for a dollar, but he didn’t agree. I finally said, “Fuck it,” and flipped the cards up. The table let out a few laughs and Piscopo said, “That was worth more than a dollar.” I couldn’t figure out if he was knocking me for showing, so I shot back, “For me or for you?” “For you.” I still don’t know what the fuck he was getting at, but I laid in some doubt by stating, “Now you know, the next time I raise to $20 I have 72o.” Let that marinate.

Let’s jump ahead. I only played 72o one more time. I raised to $20. Notably, this was a long while after my first go at it, and there was enough action that I didn’t expect anyone to think back about that particular last 72o hand. The kid raises on top to $50 total. It folds to me and I consider what to do, but realistically, I’m folding. I’m sorta damning myself because I set myself up for the reraise. I, of course, was thinking about the other 72o hand, but once I folded, the kid showed KK, and I realized that the past 72o hand had nothing to do with this one. Sometimes, I think people place too much emphasis on the import of showing your cards. It will confuse people just as much as it educates them, and sometimes moreso. If you control what cards they see, you can often control perception of your play, and to me, that is as useful as giving off no information at all. But, admittedly, it doesn’t work for everyone and it didn’t particularly help me or hurt me in the two hands I just discussed.

Speaking of confusing people, I seized upon an opportunity to try out some more poker theories during the game. I had been thinking about odd bet sizes ever since my last trip to AC. I never gave a full trip report for that one, mostly because I couldn’t get anything going at the tables and, while I try to be 100% open here, I couldn’t seem to get much going with the virtual fountain pen either. Whatever the case, on that trip, I was playing a table and goofing around. I have gotten in the habit of raising from to $4, a min raise at 1/2, mostly because it is such an obviously harmless bet. I’ll basically do it at random for hands I’d otherwise just limp with. Whatever the case, some people in AC thought it was odd/funny, so I decided to change things up some more. I bet $19 once and someone commented about it being a weird number. “It’s prime baby! I’m only betting prime numbers from here out!” I stuck with it too, betting 17 or 11 or 23, depending on the situation. Each time, I’d add, “It’s Prime Time baby!”

I wasn’t about to bust out the Prime Time theatrics in a NYC underground club, but I did decide to bet odd amounts. I wanted to see how people reacted, and for the most part, I was very happy with the results. This was a table where a minimum preflop raise was $10, but more often $12, 15 or 20. I was betting $9, $13, $8, etc. As a result, I found I was getting calls preflop, but people were more apt to fold post flop. I’ve been trying to figure it all out, and the best I can come up with is that the bets really confuse people. When someone bets $12, you can assume that they have a good hand, but likely not a great hand. It’s a standard bet. When they bet $15, they are trying to thin the herd a bit, but still want callers, so they often have a very strong hand, like TT through AA. When they bet $20 or more, they are definitely thinning the field, so they have more vulnerable but strong hands, like 66-JJ, AK, AQ, and down (looser standards are in play because we are in a NYC underground club). Of course, these are gross generalizations, but the point is, most players can comfortably make gross generalizations (whether they are accurate or not) with these types of bets. What does a $9 bet preflop mean, though? How about $13? To me, they only indicate one thing: whatever this fucker is doing, he’s fucking weird about it.

So, for example, I had already raised $9 and $13 at some point, and with A9c in LP I raise to $8, a seemingly innocuous but unusual bet for the table. The flop came down with all low cards, and after it checked to me, I nonchalantly bet $25 into the $30+ pot. Everyone folded. In and of itself, this was not a surprising turn of events. They probably all just missed the flop. But in general, people were not folding to tame continuation bets at this table.

It doesn’t always work though. I bet $13 preflop with AJs in LP. I was called by the big broad older gentleman (older, but not old), and we saw a flop of J65 with two diamonds. He checked and I bet $26, announcing that it was twice $13, since an old lady who sat with us for all of one hand felt like announcing preflop that 13 is a dangerous number. The turn was an offsuit Ten and out of nowhere, my opponent bet $100. I looked at his stack. He had about $165 behind. I had him covered, but not by much. I thought it over for a moment. He could have the TT. That would make sense, allowing him to call preflop and on the J-high flop with only one over facing a continuation bet. I let that mull over, and ultimately, I decided that he either had TT or JT. I placed my Jack face-up and folded. The bottom line was that if I was going to call, I should be pushing all-in. I wasn’t going broke on TPTK, so I had to fold.

Later, he admitted that he had 66. He also said that he was trying to look weak. I offered to give him some pointers on that area once I was ready to leave. After all, I didn’t want to give him advice and then screw myself. In hindsight, though, I never did give him that advice. No harm done.

I’ve gone over a few of the bigger hands of my session. There really only remains one more hand, the epitome of how to be profitable at a NYC underground poker room. I was dealt AA, my only AA, when I had about 270$ in front of me. When I had hit $200 earlier in the evening, I reloaded $100 on top, so I was into the game for $400 and down $130. I was playing a tighter game, aside from limping when possible, and had been dealt few pocket pairs or high Aces. The one exception was a QQ hand, where a doofus raised to $15 in early position, I reraised to $45, and he called. The flop was King high and I bet out $75 hoping he didn’t hit the one overcard. He folded quickly. Aside from that, I had 44 about 6 times, hitting a set only once and getting nothing for it.

So, the table has thinned out a bit, after some players left. We had maybe 7 players, including some new Asians (to replace the old ones, apparently) with shorter stacks and less experience. There were also to swarthy-looking Meditteranean gentlemen and the older guy, along with one of the better of the earlier Asian players who lost all of his profit and thensome when his bottom set ran into top set against the older guy. I’m finally dealt AA and raise it from MP to $20 flat. I get four or so callers, surprisingly, by the time it gets to the least experienced Asian player, who bought in for $100 and now had about $140. I was praying that someone would raise me so I could come over the top, and he obliged, bumping it to $20 total. He was two seats to my right, and to my surprise, the player to my immediate right, a friendly Mediterranean (which to me, means something either Greek, Italian, Turkish or Middle Eastern, by ethnicity mostly, as he was not Old World) raises all-in. He has about $200 or less, mostly because he, too, is of the buy-in short school of thought. Either that or he sucked, because he kept reaching for his wallet after busting 4 or so times. I decide that its now or never and push all-in on top. Most players fold, but the other Mediterranean, who was definitely Americanized but still had the darker skin and hair, thinks it over. I didn’t want a call, actually, but I decided to start chatting him up anyway. “It’s only $250. You have that covered.” He thought for a while. I kept talking. He eventually folded. It folded around to the inexperienced Asian and he folded.

We didn’t have to, but we flipped our cards up, mostly because it was a friendly table. AA v. AK. I was in great shape, and even though the K flopped, nothing else happened, and I pretty much doubled up with all the other money in the pot. The other Mediterranean who folded said he had AK too. Well, when I was chatting him up, I was actually willing to induce a call or not. I wasn’t sure where I was at against him (aside from knowing that I was surely ahead), but alas, it didn’t work out and he got away from it. Frankly, a raise, re-raise, re-re-raise all-in, followed by me re-re-re-raise all-in should’ve been enough alone to induce the fold.

I played a bit more, but ultimately got up at 9pm when the new dealer asked to collect time. I was up $117 on the day, which was great considering that I was down about $150 or so at my worst.

I should add one thing. This place has a female dealer that is out of this world. I’m not one for silicone, but if these were fake funbags, then they were fucking works of art. They were almost too perfect to be natural (and large) and yet, too natural-looking to be fake. Of course, she wore a shirt with open buttons exposing her plentiful cleavage, and as I sat in the 6s, I couldn’t help but want the 8s and 4s (the corner seats) to place their bet as far from her as possible. Reach, baby, reach! I can honestly state that I did not tip her once because I did not win a significant hand during her down (I don’t tip if I only win blinds). I can also honestly say that I don’t remember much of that half hour, aside from tipping my head at the 1s and allowing my eyes to wander behind my blacked-out sunglasses right into that valley of heaven. I kid you not when I say it was like I was fucking hypnotized. In fact, she was the new dealer at 9pm and for a moment, I considered staying for another down.

I’m heading to Buffalo on Wednesday of this week so wifey Kim can attend a speech-hearing convention. Wifey Kim and I went to school at the University at Buffalo (in fact, I met her there), so it seemed like a great opportunity to reminisce. Don’t expect much posting from Wednesday to Sunday, but if I bring the ole trusty laptop with me, you may get some here and there. I plan on spending at least one day (Friday) at the local poker clubs, which sadly did not exist when I went to school there. Wish me luck and have a great week.

Until next time, make mine poker!

It didn’t take me long to return to online poker. To be fair, it wasn’t really the same situation as Wednesday. This time, wifey Kim was clearly going to fall asleep early and we had no preset TV plans, so when I signed up for the Riverchasers event, I knew I was free and clear. I don’t expect to stop playing online poker entirely. I only expect not to let it supercede more important things in my life.

So, I’m playing in the Riverchasers event and doing fairly well, playing smart as I chat with the Other Jordan. Everything is going well when I’m moved to StB‘s table. Let me take a moment to say that I only really started reading StB about a month or two ago, but I’m glad I added him to my daily list. He writes less about poker and more about daily life, but more often than not it makes for a good read.

So StB, or Night Ranger on FT, is on my immediate left and as soon as I sit down he says, “Cool. I get to bust HighonPoker!” Well, not so cool, my man, because just then we were about 3 chips away from each other. I was playing well and I seem to play better when there is some side action, so I quickle responded, “We’ll see about that. Last longer bet? $11.” He accepted and away we go.

For a while at least. I am holding strong and chipping up to over 3500 and StB falls to around 1500. I feel like I’m in good shape. And then a window pops up. “Connecting to server…” I wait, expecting that I shifted in the wrong direction and accidentally lost my wireless connection. “Trying again…” Okay. Bigger problem. I check the TV, but its still playing. Yahoo Messenger is still open so I assume its FT’s servers. I go to my other computer to see if FT is working there, but it isn’t either. “Trying again…”

This is when I realize that Yahoo Messenger has just shut off. It probably took longer for it to realize that I lost my Internet. I turn on Firefox Mozilla and nada, on both computers. Okay, Jordan, you are bright. Let’s use some of that criminal mastermind. I search for other unprotected wireless routers in my building. I find a handful, all with weak signals, and try them one by one. Each time I have no success. I get a phone call from my brother, three floors down in my building. “Dude, is your TV working?” “Yeah, but my Internet is down.” “We have nothing down here. Fuck RCN (our cable company).” I look toward the TV and realize I am watching a DVR’ed episode. I hit the “Live” button (switches to live TV, neanderthals) and get a blank screen. It’s over Johnny. Over.

I stumble into the bedroom. I’ve given up. No Internet connection means I’ll have to be blinded out. Every 15 minutes or so, I return to the living room and try again. “Trying again…” Damn. I accept my loss and hope that StB loses before I blind out.

When I woke up this morning, I tried the TV. Nothing. I’m showering when I come up with an idea. I dry off, go to the cable box, and reset it. Suddenly I have a signal. I try the same on the cable modem, and I’m back in business. I open up FT and see that I lasted until 19th place. Not bad. StB, though, final tabled the tournament. Fucker! I sent him $11.

So, question for you folks. Do you send the $11 in this situation? To me, its a no brainer. If I won, I’d sorta expect the money. Since I lost, I wanted to make sure there was no doubt that I was going to pay.

On that note, my side bet with Al and Wolf for the Battle of the Blogger Tournaments is getting worse and worse. But alas, it was a losing bet in the first place, and its still very early. Make no doubt about it, I may lay some crappy bets sometimes, but I pay up all the time.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey folks. I’m actually going to use a hand mentioned in my last post for this Degree You Decide moment. I re-read my last post and just couldn’t fully wrap my head around whether I played this hand well, okay or just plain horribly. So, really, You Decide, and while I don’t usually beg for comments, I’d really like people’s input on this hand, even if it is just to agree with someone else, because I think we are going to potentially see a lot of varied opinions. Or not.

So, we are playing the Mookie and we have 1800 chips and the blinds are 20/40. We were just moved to a new table, so we don’t know what’s been happening at the table. We generally have a loose image, though.

We are dealt AQo in CO+2 or so. There are two early position limpers followed by a raise in middle position from to 110. It’s an odd raise, less than 2x the BB, so I opt to simply call. Should I have raised here? Should I have folded? What do you do with a potentially-dominated but also potentially-profitable hand like AQ? My logic at the time was that a call would lose me little chips, but give me more information to work with when the flop came down. Everyone else folds.

The flop is 28Q, with two spades. The original bettor bets 220 or so. We call. Here, I see that I have top pair, but I figure that I could be facing 88 or even an over pair. Also, I could be facing TT or JJ and therefore, I want to induce him into putting more money into the pot on the turn. A call allows me both of these possibilities, but it doesn’t really define where I am at. I’m not particularly worried about the flush, but I’m cognizant that the possibility is there.

The turn is a blank undercard. The bettor hesitates and bets 500 into the pot. I think it over, and decide to call, leaving me with 1000 behind. At this point, I just went passive. I figured my AQ was good, honestly, but I didn’t feel the need to push the hand since he was doing the betting for me.

The river is a low spade, completing the spade flush draw. My opponent checks, and I’m all too happy to check. I don’t see the point in betting, since the pot is good enough and I’m not 100% sure I’m ahead. I’m willing to go to showdown rather than risk more money on TPTK. He has KK, and I lose the hand.

So, maybe I should’ve pushed on the river. Maybe I should’ve folded preflop. Maybe maybe maybe. But what do you think? Cause, really, I’m just confused.

Until next time, make mine poker!

What me suck?

Yes, I do.

I played in Event #2 of the Battle of the Blogger Tournaments last night, and I really, really sucked. Once again, I started off playing well, but once Lost started, the wheels fell off.

To be fair, the wheels fell of just before Lost started. I had chipped up to about $1800, and then lost $800 playing AQ and hitting TPTK. I ended up calling down the bettor the entire way (preflop raise from 40 to 110, flop bet of 200+, turn bet of 500), only to discovery that he did, in fact, have KK. Hmmph. I don’t particularly blame myself for that hand, although I suppose I could’ve raised his flop or turn bets (he checked the river) to find out where I was at. Instead, I figured that I’d let him bet, and minimize my potential losses, while hopefully luring in an underpair like JJ or a donk with KQ.

So much for that hand. Down to 1000 or so, I couldn’t just sit out while Lost was on (if I had won that hand, or even folded preflop, I’d have enough chips to comfortably fold away), and I was soon down to 750 or so when I was dealt K6d. Put on your donkey hats, folks, because this one is a doozy…or is it? In early position, a player, I believe Astin, raises from 60 to 180. It folds around to me. I look at my stack and reason that if I push all-in, he’ll have to call 500 or so. That’s enough to push a lot of players off some weaker hands, like mid pocket pairs and AQ, AJ, and KQ. Of course, big dominating pocket pairs will call me here, so that is one shortcoming to a push, but honestly, I didn’t consider that possibility at the time (although I should have). The player wasn’t particularly deepstacked, so that also cut in favor of a push. Finally, if he had any two unpaired cards that were not a King or Six, I was in an almost coinflip situation (or so my logic went at the time). So, I pushed. And he called, AQo, without a diamond. The flop had a Queen, the turn brought my flush draw, but the river was a blank and I go home on a stupid all-in.

There are justifiable reasons why that play is not horrible. This is especially true if you believe that sometimes you need to just double-up or go home. But, let’s be real. These are just excuses. The truth is, I got into an awfukit mode and decided to gamble.

I’ve thought about writing this before, but I could never find a decent segue. Well, here it is. I think I am all too willing to run cointosses (at times), but when I or you do that, we aren’t really being honest with ourselves. In the particular hand at issues (K6d v. AQo ), I was behind 40/60. In a more common “cointoss” scenario, let’s go with AKs v. QQ, the AK is behind about 46/54. In an even better scenario, AKs v. 77 for instance, the AKs is still behind 48/52.

I think we can all agree that AKs v. 77 or QQ are the typical “cointoss” situations we find ourselves in. The K6d is a different and weaker example of a “cointoss”, but maybe I’m the only one who fools himself by seeing it as a modified cointoss (lord knows from this post that I’m trying to correct that perception). Well, whatever the case, in your best “cointoss” scenario, your opponent still has a 4% edge (48% vs. his 52%). Well, sir, that is no cointoss at all. In fact, it is actually worse odds than some of those table games we shun so much in the world of (smart) poker.

According to one article (which cleverly and correctly names poker as the #1 best bet in a casino), the house edge on video poker is a mere 1/2%. Basic blackjack strategy yields the house less than 1% edge. The Don’t Pass/Don’t Come line in craps yields a house edge of 1.41% to .59%. Hell, even playing 6 or 8 in craps offers a mere house edge of 1.52%.

So what does this tell us?! Well, it tells me that if I am willing to gamble and give my opponent a 4% edge (or, in the case of the K6o hand, a 20% edge!, discounted, of course, for the possibility that he’ll fold and other factors), then I might as well go play some craps or something. I am not utilizing the benefits of poker, but rather I’m minimizing the benefits and the opportunities to use my skill.

SHIYIT! What a revelation! So, genius, you’ve come up with this analysis. Now what? Well, for one I’m going to reconsider stupid plays like the K6d push. For two, I’ve got to analyze the rest of my game and figure out why I even get myself into these positions.

Now, let’s shift focus. There were other things that probably subconciously affected my decision to push with K6d. First and foremost, I felt urgency from two places: (1) my shorter stack and (2) Lost. The first one can be addressed by looking at the AQ hand. I’m still on the fence on this one. I think I needed to raise the flop, or even preflop. In both instances, I can see the KK re-raising me. Once this happens, I can probably get away from TPTK or AQ. The second issue, Lost, is the usual issue regarding distractions. You can tell from my last post that I thought I should be spending my time with wifey Kim. I decided to play the tournament anyway, but that nagging doubt and the desire to be doing something else definitely affected my play.

The solution is to not play. Yep. We are there again, folks. Online poker and I do not see eye-to-eye. I will continue to play online poker lightly, but I am going to recommit to limiting my online poker play. The Battle of the Blogger Tournaments will become an afterthought, something to do when I have free time, rather than a planned destination. I just don’t have it in me, plain and simple.

This leads me to my final thought. I felt like crap when I woke up this morning. I didn’t necessarily stay up any later last night or abuse my body any moreso than usual. So what was the difference between last night and most other nights. Online poker. Yep, I suffered another online poker hangover, like a subtle voice waking me up to the sound of “loser.” It’s not even about losing a particular tournament, but rather, that feeling of disappointment in myself that I did not play better. That I went out on K6d when I had a workable stack. It’s that lingering doubt.

And I’m sick of it. So, fuck you, online poker. Fuck you right in the fucking ass! Sure, I’m really saying, “Fuck me, because I suck at online poker!” but shiyit, it is what it is. Less online poker = less online poker hangovers. Less online poker = less of a bankroll leak. Less online poker = less time with cohorts…but then again, I’ll still be popping up from time to time, probably significantly more than this post suggests.

As for my sidebet, I believe that both Al and Wolf have Miami Don who currently sits in 1st place, whereas my four teammates have yet to earn points. Ah, -EV betting! At least I get what I ask for!

Final note: I’ll be free Saturday early evening, so it looks like I’ll be returning to NiceLook or even Salami for some live pokery action. I can’t wait.

Until next time, make mine poker!

That is the question. Tonight is event #2 in the Battle of the Blogger Tournaments. I had intended on playing as many of these events as possible, but Passover got in the way of event #1, the MATH, and now life is getting in the way of event #2. Damn you life!

Passover really whooped wifey Kim and my asses. You’d think celebrating a holiday with family would be all smiles and sunshine. Or maybe you have a normal family and you know otherwise. It wasn’t so much the family or the bread-free meals (aside from the bread-crumb covered chicken cutlets, which I still protest!), but rather the commute. Wifey Kim and I are very fortunate. In a city where many people travel one to two hours from local suburbs or outer boroughs to get to their place of employment, I simply take a subway for 20 minutes. Wifey Kim has it a bit tougher, traveling into the bottomless pit of hell also known as Staten Island, but she takes it in stride. Somehow, however, traveling to Long Island on a weeknight is like a slow torture.

It really isn’t that bad on paper. I left work early, met wifey Kim at the train station (20 mins. by subway), got on the train, took a one hour ride into LI and then took a short car ride to the house where I grew up. The problem, really, is the ride back. We got on a 9pm train, barely finishing dessert before leaving my old abode, and took the hour ride back into the city. From there, we grabbed a cab and were home by 10:20 or so. But, to tell you the truth, it always is a shlep, especially with the gloomy apparition of work hanging over my head. I’m a man of routines, and one of my favorite is the joy I get unwinding after work. I just can’t seem to fully unwind if I don’t get home before 10pm. But hey, that’s just me. I guess I didn’t have it so bad, though. After all, I only had to suffer through a train ride with worker drone zombies, a breadless dinner, a half-assed Seder (about a 30 minutes service performed at home), a rushed dessert, the subtle bickering of family members, and another train ride, this time with my fellow Seder refugees. It’s not like I had to suffer through water turning into blood, locusts, the death of my first born, or boils. And if you don’t get those reference, you, sir, are a heathen.

So, wifey Kim and I were utterly miserable as we made our way home. Alas, she was finally able to sit down to some much fast-forwarded American Idol and Dancing with the Stars while I played two token tournaments on FT in preparation for upcoming MATH and Blogger Big Game tournaments. As you may have noticed, I’m taking the Battle pretty seriously. I’d like to make my mark, show my stuff a bit, and win one of the very cool prizes. Hell, I’d also love to get into the Touranment of Champions freeroll.

So it was with the Battle on my mind that I got ready this morning for work. Wifey Kim was working in Manhattan today, so she got up with me a bit later than usual. As we got dressed, wifey Kim reminded me that she would be at her friend’s place tonight to watch America’s Next Top Model. “No problem honey. And just so you know, I have a tournament I have to play tonight. I’ll be playing during Lost.” Now, wifey Kim has always been lax about my play. God bless her. In general, I put the pressure on myself to play less, mostly because I can see how it is a detriment to my mental state and my attention to the more important things in life. But this time, however, wifey Kim was cutting me off at the pass. “But Lost is our time together.” Aw shit, she’s right. It’s the very reason I pretty much stopped playing the Mook.

Right now, someone is typing in the comments, “DVR it, dude.” Well, dude, I hear ya. But unfortunately, Lost is one of those shows that just can’t be put off for 24 hours, especially when my compadre, wifey Kim, is anxious to watch it.

So, where does this leave me? I’m not quite sure. I may just sign up and play for 20 minutes or so, while the DVR tapes, so I can watch Lost commercial-free at 10:20. I should be done with it by 11, and then I can refocus on the Mook. Do I just sit out for those 40 minutes? I dunno. But tonight, we’ll find out.

Oh, and I lost both token tournaments. For shame!

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hola, mi amigos. In case you are an infidel, you may like to know that we are currently in the throws of Passover, the Jewish holiday commemorating our freedom from enslavement by the evil Pharoah. Granted, what came next was 40 years of wandering through the desert, but at least we no longer had to carry huge stone slabs.

Passover Seder last night was held at Mama High’s house. The family gathered together for traditional Hebrew food, such as Matzoh, and Chili. Whlie there was definitely Manischewitz in the house (a kosher wine), the drink of choice was Sangria. Yep, the High Family sure loves their Jewish holidays, replete with dishes very un-Jewish. I even lobbied for my mother’s amazing baked ziti (another Jewish-holiday staple at my house), but bread and pasta are not allowed during Passover, although somehow the breaded chicken cutlets got a pass. Sure, we are Jewish, but for me, it feels more like I’m Jewish by ethnicity moreso than religion. Ah, what the hell. I’m just fortunate that me and God get along so well.

On that note, God seemed to award me with a third place finish (and $5 profit) in Mookie‘s Big O NCAA Pool. I didn’t fair so well in Miami Don’s pool, but then again, I literally chose my picks for Don’s free pool by tossing a coin. I figured it was worth an experiment to see if my semi-guessing picks (Mook) could beat the decision making skills of a metal disk (my picks in Don’s pool). Score one for the human brain!

Unfortunately, I missed the MATH last night due to the Passover holiday. I also see that out of the picks made by me, Al and Wolf in my individuals bets against both players, the highest placing player, and therefore the leader in our sidebet, is Columbo followed by the bane of my existence, Bayne. I don’t have full leaderboard information, but it doesn’t look good for our hero. Fortunately, there are 39 other events to go.

As for that side bet, it’s definitely a losing proposition for me. That’s why I capped the action. I have $30 riding on my picks, and I still feel confident that I can succeed. I tried to choose players who played often (or were likely to play often) and/or were known for their ability to cash regularly.

Hoyazo was my lead pick. He actually wanted to get in on the bet, but I had to reject him since I wanted to pick him. Hoy is clearly a regular, and while he doesn’t seem to think that he cashes regularly, a look at the MATH leaderboard (with Hoy squarely on top) proves otherwise. Since he is one of the organizers, its safe to say he’ll play most events too.

Next up is Fuel55. I actually won a prop bet a month or more ago, when I bet that Fuel would money after seeing his performance 20 minutes into a MATH tournament. I won. Fuel is a consistent casher, and while he claims he doesn’t play in these events that often, I know he likes a challenge and I’ve seen him around enough.

Third pick went to Lucko. He’s a helluva player, so skills-wise, I’m confident. When I noticed that he commented on the Battle of the Blogger Tournaments website, I knew he’d be game to play in many of the events. So, Lucko, to me, was another strong pick

Finally, I considered the SNG Machine, aka Tony Soprano, aka CracknAces, as my final pick. This guy seems to final table big tournaments on a daily or weekly basis. However, he hasn’t been around in the blogger events lately (that I can tell), so I jettisoned him from my picks. I’m glad that Al and Wolf didn’t pick him up though.

Instead, I went with GCox. I don’t know if that pick will appear weird to anyone. It shouldn’t. I obviously have an affinity for the guy, but since I’ve known him, I’ve respected his game a ton. He plays the opposite of me, often uber-tight, but its made him a consistent winner in online poker. Recently, he ruled the RiverChasers tournaments, which are part of the Battle. Also, I know that he is likely to play a lot of these events.

So, there you have it, my Frightful Four. Now, boys, get to work and win me some money!

Looking at the calendar, its tricky for me to play in a lot of the Battle events, but I’m going to try my darnedest. I need to make sure that I don’t let online poker eclipse my attention, as I’ve made strides in balancing poker and my home life. However, I want me a Wii and wifey Kim wants a Nintendo DS, so I’ll be playing the Mookie while watching Lost this Wednesday if all goes according to plan. I even “redeposited” about $150 online, thanks to a fellow blogger and a transfer from PayPal. Thanks to that guy, as this is the second time in recent months that he has helped me out (if I’m remembering correctly). I’d mention him by name, but I’m not so sure he wants it public in case other people want to use him to get money into their online poker accounts.

Live poker is looking light. I lost the Salami tournament on Friday, after making some great plays early on. Once the rebuy period was over, though, most players were still in big-bet mode, myself included. I ended up busting a few hands after the rebuy period when I semi-bluffed against a calling station. I had seen him make laydowns to constant pressure, but alas, his top pair, shitty kicker would not fold. In the end, though, the lesson is mine. Not only should I not bluff a calling station, but I also need to play a bit smarter. The river all-in was the real fuck up, and it was done because, while I missed my draw, I hit a pair and had seen him call down with 33 and 44 underpairs. Alas, I didn’t have to make this play.

That’s all for today. Until next time, make mine poker!