High On Poker

The next morning, Roose and I were up extra early. Like the smell of Folgers in your cup, the phermonal scent of gambling in a nearby casino always coaxing me up. I lay in bed for a few minutes trying to remember where I was and what I was doing. Once I got my bearings, I called Roose and coordinated. A quick shower later and we were heading downstairs for the buffet and poker tournament.

Excalibur’s buffet isn’t bad. The price is right, around $10 in the morning and around $15 for lunch. Like any buffet, it had the usual shortcomings that come with mass-produced food. But the selection was bountiful, and for a quick meal, it sufficed. We still had some food comps left over from check-in, so Roose, me and the two Holes ate for $2 total. This time, the meal was on Randy.

By the time we were leaving, most of the crew had joined us for breakfast. We moved en masse to the poker room to sign up for the 11am tournament. The buy-in was a ridiculous $25+10. That fee constitutes a whopping 40% of the buy-in, but I didn’t wince. I was on vacation and my friends wanted to play. $35 was a drop in the bucket, so even if it was a turbo crapshoot, it wouldn’t hurt much to lose.

As stated, the format was insane. Each player started with 300 chips, with blinds starting at 5/10. Blinds increased every 15 minutes and doubled. 10/25, 25/50, 50/100, 100/200 and so on. The tournament itself had 70 players, more than the usual 40. According to the floor, with 40 players the tournament lasted a mere 2 hours, so at least we wouldn’t be waiting around all day if someone went deep. Top prize was usually around $500, but with 70 players, it was probably closer to $700 or higher.

Adjusting to the game is always a crucial part of winning poker. Whether it be a fast tourney structure or loose players, a solid fully-rounded player will be able to adjust his game to any condition to find an edge. I had decided, due to the structure, that I would be loose very early on. I’d rather bust early than get blinded out in the middle.

It didn’t hurt when my first or second hand was AQo. I raised to 30 or 40 and got one or two callers. The flop was Q high and I bet out 100. The other player, an Indian gentleman, folded. I showed my Queen. I wanted to show the table that I had the goods, lest I start to get the image of a stealer. I needed my aggression to induce folds, and this seemed like the best way to strat on the right foot.

A couple of hands later, I was dealt A9d. I opted to limp in EP, as did Robbie Hole in MP and one or two callers, including the female button. We see a Jd8dX flop. It’s a good nut flush draw for me, but I was hoping to see the turn for free or cheap. I checked and Robbie bet out. The female button, a middle-age broad, called, and I called as well. The turn was another 8, offsuit. I checked once again, as did Robbie. This time it was the button’s turn to bet out, and she did, putting about $100 into the pot. I called, mostly because of the fast structure. I was willing to gamble it up early as a strategy to protect myself from the ridiculously escalating blinds. Robbie folded and it was just me and the chick in the hand. The river was an 8d. I wasn’t worried about quads, but I was distinctly worried about a fullhouse. If she had a Jack or even pocket 22, my flush was beat. I checked and she checked behind. I showed my flush and she showed K9, a complete bluff. I took down the pot and was building a monster stack.

A little while later I limped with ATo. The flop was ATX and I checked to allow the Indian guy to push all-in. He was fairly short and playing aggressively, so I was confident he would put his last pittance in for me. I called and he showed T8. I took down the hand easily and busted him.

All this while, I was also betting and continuation betting the flop, taking down chips and hands left and right. Someone by me said that I was playing very aggressively, raising almost every pot. That’s the type of info I need to know. It lets me know that I need to build my legitimacy back up. I explained as though I was an insecure donk, “I don’t know what else to do when I get great cards. I’ve gotten AK three times already and Jacks a couple of times too.” I was lying.

As soon as that conversation was done, I was dealt…AK. Scotty was at my table, along with Robbie Hole and college friend Big Rob. It had a lot to do with the fact that they expected 4 tables, so when we picked seats, we only had four possible tables to end up at. Ilan, Randy and Roose were at the other tables.

I know Scotty and his game very well. From when he first started, he’s made leaps and bounds. At this point in the tournament, I had about 850 and he had 750 or so. I was in LP and he raised before me. I decided to raise all-in back, hoping that he had a weaker Ace. I had a lot of reason to believe it. Although Scotty is a better player than he once was, I knew his game so well that I could imagine AT-AQ in his hand. It certainly was what it felt like at the time. I also knew that I could bust him. At the very least, I get him to fold his hand and I win the raised pot outright. By now, the blinds were getting significant, 25/50 with 300 starting stacks. He called and we flipped our cards up, my AK v. his AQ. The flop had a Queen, and by the end of the hand, I was down to 100. I was okay with it though. If someone was going to suck out on me, I’d rather it be a friend than some stranger.

In the next hand, I pushed my 100 with QJo. By the time it got to me, there were 4 limpers and I was in LP/MP. All-in-all, I could sextuple up by the time it got to the flop. At first, the T94 flop was decent, but when the straight didn’t come in, I eventually lost the hand. I walked away and decided to play some cash.

I don’t think I adequately described the Excal poker room yet. First off, the game selection sucks. Its all 2/4 Limit, 2-6 Spread Limit, 1/3 NL with a $200 max buy-in, or 2/4 NL with a $400 max buy-in. I opted for the 1/3, mostly because I was budgeting myself. You would think that 1/3 would play a lot like 1/2. In some ways it does, but in other ways that extra dollar just shakes things up. Bets to $15 are called a lot easier, for instance. Frankly, there is also something intangible. Picture driving someone else’s car. Even though the steering wheel works like a steering wheel and the seat is a seat, it just feels different. Its just not the same.

Whatever the case, I played fairly well in the cash game, but saw my stack dwindle. I hit two pair with AT and check-raised Robbie Hole, who came to join me after 10-15 minutes. He was smart enough to fold. Not long after, I raised with QQ and one player calls. The flop had an Ace. I bet $20 and he raises to $40. I folded quickly. I knew I was beat. He showed A8s. “Nice hand.” I always encourage them to show.

Everyone had busted from the tournament, and Roose was anxious to explore more casinos. I was about 4 hands from the BB, and when he insisted I leave, I told him he can either wait the three free hands I have coming or he can go without me. I didn’t want to feel rushed. I generally never leave a table until after I’ve played the UTG hand. The way I see it, the blinds are a covercharge to see a whole orbit for free. If I had three more free hands coming, I was going to take them. After all, I might get KK or AA just for waiting out a few hands with no monetary exposure.

With one hand left, I was dealt A6h. I was slightly down, but nothing too bad. I called the $3, and a frat-guy, cocky player raised to $13 from LP. I called along with two other players. The flop was Ace high, and it checked around. For what its worth, I noticed that there wasn’t much slowplaying in Vegas. I think it was largely because at the lower levels, players are not sophisticated enough to know when they should and shouldn’t use it. So, when the turn came Jack, I was mildly concerned about being out-kicked, but I decieded to stop worrying. I bet out somewhere in the $20 range. Only the frat-guy called. The river was a blank and I bet out $30. This time frat guy folded and showed me his KJ. I don’t know why he folded, because it gave me a lot of info. Unfortunately, I wouldn’t get to use that info. I cashed out and left the table around $60 up. I’m glad I made Roose wait.

The next stop was a walking tour of nearby hotels, and a stop for poker in what would become my poker oasis for the trip. But that will have to come later. Until next time, make mine poker!

And thus begins the seemingly insurmountable task of retelling a weekend clouded by sleep deprevation, alcohol and just about any other vice available in Sin City.

The night before I flew out to Vegas for Dave Roose’s bachelor party, I barely slept. I had packed and re-packed my bags three times to account for various contingencies like a nice meal, club attire, and hotter than expected weather (expected by me, and not expected by meteorologists or the lovely people in Vegas). Then I lay in bed and did my best to squeeze out 4 hours of sleep before I had to wake up and hit the road. Or more accurately, the trains.

When I got up, I threw on my pre-arranged outfit and headed out the door with a backpack and a medium-sized rolling suitcase busting at the seams. Like my poker ritual, I am very conscious of what I wear and bring into a plane. In a last-minute move, I had switched from jeans to my convertible grey cargo pants. I usually reserve the grey pants for poker, but the need to go from cool (NY) to warm weather attire (NV) required the obvious change. I also brought my hoody in case of a cold flight, and enough magazines and books to keep me entertained in case of a non-working TV or an inordinately long flight delay.

The flight was leaving early in the morning, and I arrived at the airport via the subway and a separate airport train system before 8am. Roose and Justin were already there, and we waited for G-Lan to arrive. Of course, we had our first prop bet, but Roose won out when G-Lan arrived sooner rather than later. Incidentally, betting the over on a wait is my favorite type of prop bet; even when you lose, it feels like a win because you get to leave earlier than expected.

Once inside the airport, we entered the security lines. I took the left-most line while the rest of the crew took the middle line. We then promptly had our second prop bet with me beating Roose to the metal detector by barely a foot. Even already!

The flight was mostly uneventful. Roose and I had seats in the front and settled in for some half-assed sleep attempts (about 40 minutes of sleep total over two attempts) and bad movies (Eragon).

Upon arrival, we called Scotty and Robbie Hole. They were on an earlier flight, having flown first class due to some miles (or maybe just generosity) from Scotty. Scotty, unlike the majority of the crew, is in his 40s, with kids and a wife. He owns a good business, and got invited to the Roose Home Game about two years ago through J.R., one of Roose’s friends and Scotty’s employee/co-worker. Over those 2 years, Scotty has become an integral part of the group, largely because of his fun-time mentality. His generosity is unparalleled, and I don’t think anyone there could thank him enough for everything he did for us this trip. But we’ll get to that later.

Scotty and Robbie Hole were in the airport getting their luggage, so they waited as we made our way down. Roose’s eyes sparkled like a kid on Christmas at the sight of slot machines in the most mundane of places, an airport. We grabbed our bags (mine came off first for another prop bet win) and headed out for a cab.

We were staying in the Excalibur using High On Poker’s modified Atlantic City Hotel Reservation System. As you may recall, the ACHRS requires the traveler to book the (i) cheapest (ii) casino hotel (iii) on the boardwalk. The logic is that the casino/hotels (a casino is a must) are all the same as long as they are on the boardwalk where access to one equals easy access to them all. Therefore, the only thing truly different is price, and hence the cheapest casino hotel on the boardwalk suffices. With little personal knowledge of Vegas, and a group with varied means, I decided to find the (i) cheapest (ii) casino hotel (iii) in a populated area of the Strip (iv) that was not a certified shithole. In that regard, Excalibur won out.

The truth is, Excal looks like something out of Disneyland. And I’m not talking about the Haunted Mansion either. I’m talking about a freakin’ cheesy Princess castle of sorts, with blue- and pink-topped towers. The interior was not much better. The rooms were drab and brown. Our toilet had a weak flush that required a good 20 seconds of flushing. But, the rooms had beds and we paid off housekeeping to keep us well-supplied with towels without any of the other stuff. I have a general policy that I don’t need someone to make my bed on a daily basis, and frankly, with the amount of cash around, I didn’t need anyone coming into my room without me. My roommate, Scott, had the most cash of all, and he shared my sentiment. Sadly, the room lacked a safe.

Once we were settled in, the group was pretty hungry. We opted for the buffet, using the comps provided free with the room. Four people ate for under $3, and when this crew rolls into a buffet, we make sure we get our $3 worth.

After lunch, we met up with the rest of the crew. Randy Hole flew in the same flight as Roose’s father Jack, his uncle Kenny and Roose’s college friend Johnny. College friend Big Rob came in from Albany, NY as well. In total, there were 11 of us, a good amount for a cross-country, relatively expensive trip.

The gambling started off with table games. Fucking table games. Second only to Bayne as the bane of my existence. It started off well enough. Unlike AC, Vegas has a plethora of well priced (read: cheap) tables, including $10 PaiGow (AC is usually $20), $5 blackjack (AC is $10), and my favorite, $5 craps (AC is $10). This can be attractive to someone like myself, who recognizes the -EV nature of the games, but still is attracted to the lack of control inherent in these games of chance. Unfortunately, its easy to start with $5 bets and end with $25 or higher bets anyway, and while I don’t remember what the initial culprit was, I didn’t exactly bust the house.

Text messages were going to be the prefered form of communication for the trip. For one, you can communicate over the noisey dings and rings of the ever present slot machines. For two, you didn’t have to argue with anyone who first wanted to do this or that. You simply typed, “Meeting at the bar at 7:30 and going for dinner.” If people didn’t show up, that was their right. But with this group, I strolled down at 7:15 and everyone was already there drinking away.

We had a very loose itinerary set up by yours truly. The goal was to at least have some pre-planned things so people could rage solo and return to the group at a given place/time. That went out the window pretty quickly due to the realities of our free-flowing Vegas experience, but at least the first night’s dinner worked out. As a group, we headed in three cabs to Ellis Island, a shitty little casino about a block off the Strip by the Flamingo. I had eaten there twice on my first trip to Vegas, and it was an experience. I was hoping this group would warm to it also, being a group who largely consisted of people who were happy to find a bargain (more money left for booze, gambling and women).

Upon entering Ellis Island, I had second thoughts. My memory of the place didn’t exactly include exquisite decor, but arriving there with a group made the place seem that much more desperate. We walked over to the restaurant and put in our name for a table. We were given a number and told that it would be 30 minutes. With not much else to do, we did what we always did, played table games. I settled in for some $5 blackjack, which turned into $10 blackjack and eventually $40 blackjack when our table was called. Overall, I lost $90, ironic since I insisted we head to Ellis Island for the $4.95 steak special.

By the time we sat at our table, everyone was happy on booze and gamblin’. The menus were dinky and people wondered where the steak special was listed. It wasn’t. While Ellis Island has a great steak special it is not listed anywhere on the menu. Instead, its listed on the freaking table games. Right there next to the Insurance Bar is some red text, “$4.95 10 oz. Sirloin Special.” Nine out of eleven of us ordered the steak. The other two ordered burgers, which ironically cost more than the steak.

Eating at Ellis Island was a lot like eating at Chucky Cheese at a birthday party. As soon as the orders were placed, half of the degenerate table got up to return to the table games. The returned just before soup/salad, which came with the $4.95 steak. I went with the salad (Ranch dressing) instead of gastrointestinally gambling on the soup, chili.

By the time the meal arrived, everyone was shocked. For under $5, the steak came with potato, vegetable and the aforementioned soup or salad. Ellis Island’s micro-brewed beers only costed $1 each, so the place is a boon for any traveler looking to get fed and drunk on the cheap. Even better, everyone was amazed by how good the steak was, especially given the price. As the check was brought over, Scotty kindly took it from the waitress and announced that the meal was on him. We all put up a weak fight, but Scotty insisted. He would have done it regardless of the price, but it didn’t hurt that the bill was $88 for eleven people.

$4.95 Ellis Island Steak

Following our meal, we hung around Ellis Island enough to lose the rest of whatever we had not cashed in. We then decided to see some more of the city and headed by foot over to the Bellagio. Once there, I checked out the poker room. The room was semi-private, by the casino floor but seperated by a very low wall (think bench) with periodic pillars. The room seemed dead and Bobby’s Room was empty. The cheapest NL game was $2/5. I decided that it was just not worth it to play. I had yet to warm up and I’m more of a $1/2 player for the time being. The rest of the crew got antsy and we decided to head back to the Excalibur. Before leaving I took a lap of the poker room looking for Linda from PokerWorks. No dice, so we hit the road.

Already things are getting hazey. Upon our return to Excal, I grabbed a PokerPages and checked the listings for decent tournaments. We couldn’t decide on one until Roose decided to play the extremely cheap, extremely turbo tournament at Excal at 11am the next morning. Poker is poker, and while the fee was insane on the $25+10 game, I saw it more as a gamble than as skilled poker, and I was willing to spend $35 without a blink of the eye. Meanwhile, I settled in for some $1/2 NL.

I finally sat down in Excalibur’s shitty poker room at about 1am. It was actually 4am NY time, and I was up since about 6am, so fatigue was definitely setting in. It only became more apparent as my play was slightly lackluster. I lost a decent pot when a seemingly drunk, fat, bearded yokel with a sleaveless shirt and a near-exposed gut raised $50 on a river card that made a straight. I had the slightly higher straight thanks to a hole card and called his bet, only to discover that the yokel had rivered a flush. I didn’t even consider the possibility. I looked over to Roose and said quite plainly, “I didn’t see the flush. If I’m not playing better in 9 minutes (the 1:45 mark), I’m calling it a night.

Roose was eventually stacked by a player who appeared conservative but called down all of Dave’s top pair top kicker bets with a mid-pair, rivering an inside straight. I decided that he was my target and won back all of my losses when I held AA. I don’t recall the hand in much detail, but my notes tell me that I bet $12, $20, $30 and $30 at each card even though my AA didn’t improve. I was trying to keep that one guy in the hand, and sure enough, when we reached the river, I was ahead and took down a nicely fattened pot.

I only took notes for two more pots before I ended my session. The first one was just odd. I limped with J6s in the CO because there were a bunch of limpers and this was the type of table that would pay you off if you hit a weird combination. The flop was 654 and when it checked to me, I bet $12 expecting to maybe get one caller with a 7 or 3 going for the open-ended straight draw. To my surprise, I got 4 callers. Obviously, when the 4 turn came, I checked when the action got to me. There was only one person acting behind me, a middle-aged women that looked half-perplexed and half-tilted. She may have also been half-drunk. She thought for a moment and checked. The river was an Ace, and I knew I was done with this hand. When it checked to me, I checked as well. The woman on the button paused for a moment. She was going to bet, but last minute checked. At showdown, I won the hand. I don’t know what those other players were doing in there, but my hand was nothing to write home about either. If the woman bet from the button, she would’ve taken the pot easily.

The last hand of the session was classic Jordan-Robbie Hole nonsense. When Robbie and I are at a table, we are usually pretty aggressive against each other, regardless of the conditions. In this case, I raised with JJ from late position and he was my only caller. I was happy with the Ten-high flop. I bet out and he called. I don’t remember much in the way of specifics, but what I didn’t know at the time was that Robbie had TT, for a flopped set. By the river, he had pulled a couple of more small-ish bets from me. When he showed his cards, I was hardly perturbed. If someone was going to take my chips, I’m glad it was one of our own. The fact that I didn’t lose more in that situation made me happy too.

We left the poker room at 3:30 or later in the morning. It was 6:30 in New York. I was up for over 24 hours straight, but that is no big feat in Vegas. We played some more table games and eventually decided that sleep had to happen sooner or later. On our way up, Scotty said that he wanted to get some air. I didn’t see him until many hours later when he stumbled into the room. By then, I was already asleep, dreaming of more poker to come. I was down $168 in poker and several hundred in table games, but there was a cheap ass tournament in the morning, and I planned on leaving the Excal for some more interesting poker destinations. So far, my play had been sub-par, but I knew I’d get my sea legs. Table games, however, were just a black hole of dough, and by the end of the trip, I’d realize how much of a black hole they are.

Part 2 will hopefully come a bit quicker than this one. Until then, make mine poker!

Sometimes I think that the attitude that Woffles has that makes him so entertaining to read will also be his biggest obstacle in getting to a place where his game is solid and secure from bankroll tilting. If you can’t look at your own game and improve upon yourself, then are you are destined to continue the same cycle of building a bankroll and losing a bankroll? You all know about my trials and tribulations on the virtual felt, but one thing is for certain, at least to me. Where my online game lacks, it does so because of my inability to focus, do largely to that feeling that I’m playing a videogame and the readily available distractions, including intoxicants. I don’t have many illusions about my online game, but I’ve also come to accept certain shortcomings in an effort to focus on what has been, to me, the more successful endeavor, live play.

Live play, baby! In 26 hours, I’ll be touching down in Vegas ready to check-raise a bunch of tourist douschebags. The fact that I’m a tourist douschebag isn’t lost on me, but at least I write about poker, thereby actively engaging in analysis and the game. It is one of the great benefits of poker blogging. With each post, you or I are hopefully actively thinkiing about the game, considering plays, reads, everything to figure out how we can improve. It’s the next generation of the communities that built up in places like the undergrond Mayfare club in NYC, where players like Action Dan and Howard Ledered played some poker and then hit the bar for drinks and critical poker talk. Poker is very much a game of one, an individual against himself, but it always helps to have a second person to bounce ideas off of. I’m fortuante to have this blog and readers, because some of the analysis of yesterday’s post were very helpful. In the “real world,” I’m lucky to have guys like Dave Roose and Matty Ebs, compadres who I can trust to tell me what I’m doing wrong, what I’m doing right and how I can improve in particular areas. I’ve sat at tables with 9 enemies, and it makes for a helluva game, but I’d rather have 8 enemies and a friend, if for no other reason than to have someone to discuss the game with after the fact.

Ah, I’m rambling. I’m just so freakin’ excited for Vegas that I can’t think of anything else, really. I’ll go through the work day and prepare everything that needs to be done this week, but as soon as I can, I’m hitting the street, packing my bags, and waiting ever so anxiously for my flight early tomorrow morning. Thank god, I’m flying in with Roose on Jet Blue. Even with all of Jet Blue’s crappy press lately, they still have some fine customer service, airline seats and TVs. I was planning to bring a slew of items on the plane, but with the TV, I can make due with one book and an iPod. Oh, and maybe a deck of cards, in case Roose wants to play some Chinese Poker (and yes, I can’t help but capitalize Chinese Poker).

This will be my 2nd trip to Vegas, and I can already tell that I am going to gorge myself on gambling once I arrive. I’m ostensibly running the social aspect of the trip, complete with a loose itinerary. Very loose itinerary. Once I sent it out, I got a half-dozen emails with other suggestions, and I reverted to my fallback position: we meet up, we get $4.95 steak dinners at Ellis Island and we discuss our plans as a group. Fortunately, I’m NOT in charge of the entertainment. That, I left for someone else. It’s solely my job to enjoy the performance.

Vegas vegas vegas. Wish me luck, people. I’ll be back on Monday with a Trip Report, or at least as much of a trip report as I can remember.

Until next time, make mine poker!

If you’ve finished Poker 101 by Jordan, hosted over at the Waffle House, you’ve already learned that the only relevant thing to hand analysis is (a) the cards held by the players, and (b) the incessant rant of a petulant child. Congratulations! You’ve all passed Poker 101, so it is with great excitement that I invite you to Poker 201, where you will learn that poker is more than just the cards and the rants, and actually includes betting, chipstacks, and odds.

As you can recall, at Poker 101, we discussed a hand where I played 88 against Woffle’s AQh, and while he flopped an Ace, I “bluffed” until I rivered an 8 to bust him. With that information alone, you could probably write a long rant about terrible play, but here at Poker 201, we believe that the most important part of hand analysis is looking at all aspects of a hand to determine how one can improve the results if faced with the same situation. Let’s revisit the hand and look at the decisions made throughout and the many aspects of the game that we chose to ignore in the more basic Poker 101 class.

Let’s start with everything that happened before the hole cards were dealt. The table was a good one, with a fun selection of players, including everyone’s favorite trainwreck, Woffle. At this point in the tournament, through stellar play, Woffle was down to 2585 in chips. I was up to 3860. At the very moment, without any cards, this information does not seem terribly relevant. Lord knows we don’t touch on it at Poker 101, mostly because we don’t want to confuse the novice players with complicated issues like errors in past hands can lead to disadvantageous situations in future hands.

Once the cards are dealt, I receive 88 two seats from the button. Asbentmindedly, I raised pot, from 40 to 140. I only get one caller, the Woffle, with AQh. So far, I don’t think anyone misplayed the hand.

The flop is Ac7d6d. Woffles, conscious of the fact that he hit top pair second kicker, decides to check, so he can refocus on attempting to fellate himself. Either this was a slowplay, or he thought he was behind. With a 300 pot, it seems logical for a player with 88 to raise pot. There is only one overcard on the board, and while the Ace is scary, Woffle’s check or slowplay signals weakness. Betting pot does a few things. It potentially protects my hand against suckouts from straight or flush draws, potentially gets a weak Ace or a higher pocket pair to fold fearing that I hit the Ace with a good kicker (remember, I raised preflop), and gives me more info about what my tilty little opponent has. Should I have checked? Potentially. But then I’d be giving up control of the hand. If we are dancing, I’m leading and Woffle is wearing a chiffon gown.

Woffle chooses to call. This is his second mistake. Even if he was willing to check the flop, once I bet, he has to raise or fold. Calling gives him no information, and for all he knows, I have AK or even 89d. But, he checks and gives up control of the hand. Let’s assume he is slowplaying, because if not, then he is just throwing money away without thinking the hand through.

The turn is a 9h. This is a great card for me, in a sense. I would prefer the 5h, but the 9 gives me some nice draws along with 3rd pair. I can’t put Woffle on the 9 because it wouldn’t make sense with the rest of the hand. I may be able to put him on a weak Ace, but a flush draw is also a good possibility. He may be slowplaying me with a monster, like 66 or 77, but why would he be so passive. At the very least, if he has the Ace or a set of 7s or 6s, I have an additional 8 outs for the straight, a total of 10 outs when added two the two 8s still in the deck. If he has the flush draw, I’m ahead anyway. If he has a 7 or 6 and thinks I’m a donkey, then that works as well.

So, what does the big bad Ace Queen do when the turn brings a scary straight card? He checks. Why? Either he is slowplaying a board with a flush and straight draw, or he is scared of me. I’ll let Woffles decide. Whatever the case, this tells me that he is either slowplaying or scared. At this point, we have both put 440 into the pot. He is down to 2145, and I am down to 3420. I decide to bet pot, 900, because I want to win the hand outright. The bet is almost 1/2 of Woffle’s stack, so from my vantage point, its placing enough pressure. Pushing will look weaker and might get a call from a weak Ace. However, (get your cameras ready) I may have messed up. Truthfully, I’m not sure. My bet amount is enough that Woffles only has two options, fold or push. I basically priced myself in to a call if he pushes. That said, I’m not 100% sure this isn’t the best play. As I said, an all-in would probably appear like a bluff steal and would be called easier from a player like Woffle (or so I thought, when I had him read as a player who thought through the entirety of a hand). A check leaves me vulnerable to a flush draw, something I really saw as a possibility, given his check-call behavior. At least by betting, I may get winning hands to fold (weak Aces) and get drawing hands to fold before they draw out on me. This is where I think I may have misplayed the hand, but what comes next is purely academic…for Poker 201 thinkers.

I raise pot, 900, and Woffle finally succeeds in fellating himself, looks up at the screen, wipes off his chin, and pushes all-in. At least that is my assumption. His time practically ran out before he acted (although the night of, he berated me for taking time for the call). I did call after some consideration, and Woffle flips over his top pair, second kicker. I river an 8, and Woffle type-shouts that I’m a donkey who hit a 2-outter.

This is the advanced portion of the class, and I’ve instructed Woffles particularly to take notes, because his revisionist history just doesn’t fly here. I had 10 outs, first off. Not 2. Whenever Woffles posts that the other guy 2 outs or 1 out, its safe to say that he means 1 or 2 outs out of many. Since I hit my set, I had two outs, 8 and 8. Perhaps if the river was a Ten, I’d only have four outs, the four tens, and if the river was a 5, I’d only have the four 5s as outs. But alas, it doesn’t work that way. I had 10 outs TOTAL. That’s the only amount that matters.

For you Poker 101 folks, you may be thinking, 10 outs is not a lot. Well, you are right. In fact, I had only a 22.73% chance of winning the hand once I called the all-in. But it is crucial to review the information available at the time of the decision AND the pot odds involved.

The informtaion I had was that Woffle was check-calling the entire way and now was pushing. That led me to believe that he was likely not on a flush draw, although I still considered it a remote possibility. He likely had an Ace and maybe even two-pair, A9. That would match his weak check-call strategy. But that would also put me at a disadvantage. Surely, calling his all-in when I think I am probably behind (let’s go with 70% sure I’m behind, or even 80%) is a stupid call. But the plain answer is, no. The pot was 3945 after his push, and I had to call 1245. The pot odds, therefore, was more than 3:1. This alone is not fantastic. It would require me getting about 32% odds on my hand. But then I noticed stack sizes. If I call, I have almost 1300 left. Now, 1300 is not a gold mine, but we are at 20/40 stakes, and if I lose, I have confidence that I have the time to win back my money. At the time, I didn’t have specific odds. All I could see was 1200 to win almost 4000, and this, along with the amount of chips I’d have left, was enough to encourage me to call. After all, worst case scenario, I have 10 outs. Best case, he is flush drawing and I’m at least 65% to win.

As you may know by now, my call led to a rivered 8, translated to Wofflese as a 2-outter (out of 10 outs possible). Whatever the case, I can reflect back at the hand and see that I made a few questionable moves. That last call was not as priced-in as I originally thought, but I was correct about the fact that I had Woffles covered (in the table chat, he claimed I had him covered by 20, so take what Woffles’ word for what its worth). The 900 pot bet was also sort of questionable, but I’m at a loss as to how to react better there. A check would’ve worked in hindsight. I hit my river or I get out of the hand. I suppose that was my major flaw, firing the second bullet. That, folks, is the core of Poker 201, learning from your mistakes.

Now its time for some after-class extra-help. Woffles needs it desperately. Instead of claiming that I sucked out on you with a 2 outter, Woffles, why don’t you analyze the hand and figure out how YOU caused yourself to go busto. First, the flop call is okay. You want to see a flop for cheap. But once you hit your top pair with a straight and flush draw out there, you have to bet out to find out where you are. Instead, you check-call. If you bet or check-raise, you win the hand, plain and simple. On the turn, you check again, knowing that the straight may’ve came in and the flush draw is still out there. If you really think you are ahead, you have to cut it off now. If you bet the turn, I fold. Instead, you “trap” me and then push, giving me many reasons to call.

Granted, I took your chips all the way to 35th place, but that’s about 9 spots higher than the 44th spot I put you in. Also, I didn’t spend 20 minutes trash talking after I busted. I’ll give a preview to Poker 301, Ettiquette. When I ultimately busted, I was all-in with 99 preflop against K9. The flop was KKx. After the hand, I said, “nh”, “gl” and “i’m out!” I wasn’t pissed at the guy who called me with K9. I accepted that I can’t control other players. You can only control yourself. In that instance, the part I needed to fix happened before the hand, when I lost other hands to make me shorter stacked than the K9 hand. But really, the other part was that I wanted to watch Heroes and I had already won by tilting Woffles.

Because of Woffle’s revisionist history (what was that he said about the Holocaust not happening?) I’ll keep the original hand history below. I don’t want you to think that we are all self-deluding douschebags.

Until next time, class is out!

Full Tilt Poker Game #2426947320: Mondays at the Hoy (17511696), Table 1 – 20/40 – No Limit Hold’em – 22:17:30 ET – 2007/05/14
Seat 1: BuddyDank (3,040)
Seat 2: IslandBum1 (2,625)
Seat 3: HighOnPoker (3,860)
Seat 4: smokkee (6,165)
Seat 5: Mattazuma (2,620)
Seat 7: sellthekids (3,105)
Seat 8: SirFWALGMan (2,585)
Seat 9: NewinNov (2,670)
sellthekids posts the small blind of 20
SirFWALGMan posts the big blind of 40
The button is in seat #5
*** HOLE CARDS ***
Dealt to HighOnPoker [8s 8c]
NewinNov folds
BuddyDank folds
IslandBum1 folds
HighOnPoker raises to 140
smokkee folds
Mattazuma folds
sellthekids folds
SirFWALGMan calls 100
*** FLOP *** [Ac 7d 6d]
SirFWALGMan checks
HighOnPoker bets 300
SirFWALGMan calls 300
smokkee: but, when her bday does come around, it lasts like two freakin weeks
*** TURN *** [Ac 7d 6d] [9h]
SirFWALGMan checks
HighOnPoker bets 900
SirFWALGMan has 15 seconds left to act
SirFWALGMan raises to 2,145, and is all in
HighOnPoker has 15 seconds left to act
HighOnPoker calls 1,245
SirFWALGMan shows [Qh Ah]
HighOnPoker shows [8s 8c]
*** RIVER *** [Ac 7d 6d 9h] [8d]
SirFWALGMan shows a pair of Aces
HighOnPoker shows three of a kind, Eights
HighOnPoker wins the pot (5,190) with three of a kind, Eights
HighOnPoker: booya
SirFWALGMan stands up
*** SUMMARY ***
Total pot 5,190 | Rake 0
Board: [Ac 7d 6d 9h 8d]
Seat 1: BuddyDank didn’t bet (folded)
Seat 2: IslandBum1 didn’t bet (folded)
Seat 3: HighOnPoker showed [8s 8c] and won (5,190) with three of a kind, Eights
Seat 4: smokkee didn’t bet (folded)
Seat 5: Mattazuma (button) didn’t bet (folded)
Seat 7: sellthekids (small blind) folded before the Flop
Seat 8: SirFWALGMan (big blind) showed [Qh Ah] and lost with a pair of Aces
Seat 9: NewinNov didn’t bet (folded)

I have been recently lamenting the two-loss-streak that I suffered at the Joy Luck Club (my new name for NiceLook) and Salami Club, mostly because I fear what the losses will do to my mental state going into my upcoming trip to Las Vegas.

The last time (and only time) I was in Las Vegas, I lost my entire yearly profits, then a mere $500, playing sub-optimal poker. Frankly, it started with some bad luck, but bad luck begets bad play and I left Vegas a broken and broke man.

Even though that was two years ago, I still remember my inaugural Vegas trip, and a part of me feared that I would be returning to lose my bankroll all over again. Add to that my recent losses, not insubstantial either, amounting to about 1/4 of my profit this year, and I couldn’t help but feel a limit hesitant about Las Vegas. Don’t get me wrong for a moment. I was and am still excited to go, but that shred of self-doubt still remained, and I could not commit myself 100% to the idea that Vegas would be easy money.

I sincerely believe that mindset is 9/10s of poker, as it is in most of life. Even if you have no idea what you are doing, an aire of confidence can go a long way. Most people will assume you know what you are doing and will treat you and your words or actions as such. You may just be a donkey raising with A2o, but if you have an aire of confidence, the rest of the table might read you as a seasoned player raising with a high pocket pair. On the flip side, you could be a fantastic player, but if you enter the room scared and worried, sit at a table and emote to the table that you are nervous, they will treat you as the wimp you emote and you, in turn, will face more re-raises and other plays that will make you rightly fold. For this reason, it was extremely important that I get over my “fear” of Vegas poker and the first step was to shed my self-proclaimed losing streak.

On Saturday, I had to go to Long Island to rent a tuxedo for Dave Roose’s wedding. While I was there, wifey Kim was helping her friend plan her wedding (different couple; love is in the air). I knew she was busy for the day, so I was glad when Roose called with a pokery offer. His friend Greg, a guy I had played with at the Roose game a handful of times and hung with in AC during my last attempt at a WSOP Circuit event, was hosting the game at the house he lives in with a bunch of other guys. We got there very early for the tournament, but a cash game was already under way. Unfortunately, the table was full and I did my best to relax. Along with the idea of confidence I mentioned earlier, I find that calmness is an essential component to successful live poker. When I am anxious to play, especially when I’m waiting around, I do my best to relax, find center, and prepare myself for folding. Deep breaths.

It worked, for the most part. Sadly, though, I got a lot of practice. No one was busting and leaving the table, and I wasn’t in a position to demand a seat from a busted player, so I resolved to watching the table for tells (notable tells included shuffling bad hole cards, tightening lips when looking at bad flops, and one player who had a weird quick blink thing when he hit the flop HARD). Otherwise, I absently watched the basketball game on the TV and waited. And waited. And waited.

Two hours later, we were sitting in our seats for the tournament, but nothing was happening. Food was coming off the grill, so we waited for everyone to eat. Then some people had some cigarettes. Then others went to get more food and drinks. I was at my fucking wits end, and even told Roose that I would leave if he was interested. I wasn’t trying to be a dick about it, but Roose, our friend Heather and I were chomping at the bit and more than a bit annoyed by the lack of organization. I wouldn’t be surprised if a player or two from the game reads this post, so let me say this: the lack of organization is nothing new, and I don’t hold any hard feelings or ill will. Poker players are by nature only looking out for themselves, and in my case, it was in my best interest to get the game started, the same as the other players, likely a bit drunk and otherwise altered, had it in their best interests to take a smoke break, a drive or whatever. Sometimes, throwing a home game is like herding cats, so while I grumble here, it is merely an account for what I felt at the time, but ultimately, the game went well once it got started, and the hosts were very hospitable.

There were 15 runners in the first tournament. I got placed at the kiddie table, set up in the kitchen, along with Heather, Greg’s friend Josh, some cute brunette chick and a couple of strangers. The kids must’ve been in college, because I heard some fraternity-speak. I was not particularly concerned with anyone at my table. I had been watching them, and they were all playing poker, but they weren’t Players, if you catch my drift.

The first table when exceedingly well. I started off with a big pocket pair early and went deep in a hand with Josh calling me along. I was hit with the deck when my 23 turned into three 2s on the turn, KTh turned into a flush by the river, and other hands came in easily. For the most part, the table was full of limpers who were relatively tight post-flop, so I was playing a lot of hands, hoping to steal pots post-flop or getting implied odds on seemingly crappy hands. Aside from me, a thick guy named Dave was also chipping up nicely, particularly when he called two all-ins with a nut flush draw and rivered it. Within an hour or so, maybe a little more, we were down to 10 players, and we combined into the main room.

When you have a house owned by a 20-something guy who rents out the rooms to other 20-somethings, you may find that a formal dining table is unnecessary. So, don’t be surprised if you find a red felt, tan leather bumper poker table in its place, complete with 10 red rolling swivel chairs. Even the dimming inset lighting was on point, and playing was a pleasure. I will offer some advice though, for all you home game hosts out there. If you have a long table, get a dealer button and have the players sitting in the middle seats act as the default dealers, using the button to ensure that the dealing is done right and everyone knows where the action is. This avoids situations where the guy at the far end of the table chucks card across the table, often flipping them.

Whatever the case, the game continued on, and I was probably in the top 3 stacks at the final table. I quickly shed some chips trying to bully this new table as I bullied the other one. I was unsuccessful until I got into a hand with a player who I correctly read as weak. I bet the flop and he called. I bet much bigger on the turn and he had to fold. It was a gamble, but I could feel that he was going to fold. I don’t remember what it was specifically. It was the general demeanor.

I tried to let players bust and keep pace while I was at it. Details elude me, but eventually, we were down to five-handed, the bubble. The host/homeowner’s girlfriend was playing as well. If he reads here, I apologize in advance. These guys hung out with some decent looking broads. She was wearing a brown tanktop and whenever she bent over the table to look at the cards, I got a nice view. God bless that girl, I didn’t even mind when here QT sucked out on my AJ. Eventually, though, I had to bust her ass in 5th place, and we were down to 4. At this point, I had amassed a ton of chips. The big hand was when I took out Greg in 6th place. If memory serves correct, I had AKo, I bet, a player called, Greg raised all-in, and I had to think it over. We were both some of the bigger stacks at the table, but I felt that Greg, a loose player, could be making the play with AQ. Even if I was wrong, it would be a coin toss, and I had him covered. In reality, I made the call quick, so quick that Greg was relieved when he tabled his QQ and I showed AKo. I turned the King and he busted. We chatted about the hand later, and in the end, his play was good, but the results were bad. It seemed that he and I were both willing to go to war on a cointoss if needed in order to be put in a commanding position at the table.

That’s just what happened. After that hand, I was the huge chipstack. I played relatively tight because I didn’t want to give anyone else a chance to come back. There was some talk of a deal, but the payout breakdown was such that nothing could be worked out. Eventually, 4th went out and then the host took out 3rd. When I realized it was the host’s birthday, we worked out a deal. I took 1st place and $140 instead of $160, and he took 2nd and $100 instead of $80. All-in-all, it was a great deal for both of us.

I was pretty spent after the first tournament, but 9 people were interested in a second tournament and I joined to make it a complete 10. Roose was my ride anyway, so I didn’t have many other options. Whatever the case, I was up for another game, especially since I was on a freeroll.

I don’t remember much about the tournament. I played well throughout, though. In the first tournament, I knew I was getting great cards early, but I used that momentum to keep up the chip accumulation without really solid cards. That pretty much carried over into the second game, high off of my win. Cutting to the chase, a few hours later and I was ITM with Roose and Heather, with talks of a deal in the air.

At this point, Roose had a ton of chips. He is one of the players I am most careful with, since I know that he is very capable of taking your entire stack in one hand if you give him the opportunity. Heather is a tighter player compared to our action junkie crowd, and while this serves her well, it also can cause difficult times for her when the game gets short. I, as I previously explained, believed myself to be the best player at the table. As much as I resepect my competition, I need to maintain this belief in order to play my best. I need to give myself the mental edge. And frankly, I have the most table experience and I was the only one that writes about poker (and therefore actively processes it) on a regular basis.

A chop was proposed with Roose getting $100 and Heather and I $50. If we decided to play it out, 1st place would get $120, 2nd would get $60 and 3rd would get $40. It may have seemed at the time that I was squabbling over $10, essentially the loss I would take by accepting the chop instead of 2nd, since no one would take Roose off of his big stack – I should note, I didn’t believe that logic, but I was willing to accept the rest of the table’s belief. To make matters worse, I was slightly shorter than Heather. But one of my poker tenets is that you should NEVER accept a deal for other people’s sakes. You accept the deal that is best for you or nothing at all. The rest of the players were antsy, but I calmly turned to them and said in a way that was very confident and in hindsight, potentially smug, “We can make the deal right now, or I can play it out and bust 3rd place in 2 hands. Give me 15 minutes and we’ll be down to 2.” It took me 5 minutes. After I busted Heather, Roose had about a 2:1 chip lead on me. I offered a new deal: “You take $100 and I get $80.” Roose argued at first that he was a prohibitive chip leader. “We can play it out if you want, but if I double through you, I’m going to have the big stack by a good amount.” Once explained, he accepted and I effectively won an additional $30 for busting Heather and sticking to my guns. Roose, on the other hand, got exactly what he was willing to chop to when we were down to 3, $100.

At this point, it was well past midnight. I was exhausted from poker and partying and ready to head home. Sunday was Mother’s Day, and Kim and my families had a joint brunch planned for 1:30pm. At this rate, far out on Long Island, I would have to either sleep at my parent’s LI home or hitch a ride to Queens with Roose and then hop in a LI train to a NY train for about an additional 1 hour to get home. In other words, timing was becoming an bitch, and wifey Kim’s call seemed to suggest that she had a tough night and was not looking forward to waking up early the next day to clean the apartment solo for the family to come over. For wifey Kim, I decided that come hell or high water, I was going to be in bed when she woke up Sunday morning, so it was to my benefit to head home. At the current rate, I wouldn’t be in bed until 4am or so, but Roose was my ride.

At this point, I had been playing for about 5 or 6 hours straight. When the other player were waiting between tournaments, I had been playing back to back, with barely a piss-break in between. But Roose, surprisingly, was up for the third game, and when some other tablemates asked me to stay, I replied jokingly, “Sure, I have nowhere else to go.” Someone chuckled and I deadpanned, “No, really, Roose is my ride. I have nowhere else to go.”

About 15-20 minutes into the tournament, Roose turned to me and said, “It just hit me.” The look of exhaustion on his face would’ve been funny if it wasn’t a reflection of what I had been feeling for the last 2 hours. We agreed at the table to play for broke, and Roose even joked that if he busted, he would leave me behind. At least I hoped he was joking.

We both ramped up our aggression, and by the time it was three handed, well, Roose and I were sitting 1st and 2nd in chips. I don’t remember who took third, but Roose had accumulated the big stack once again, and this time, he had me outchipped probably 4:1. When he busted 3rd we talked briefly of a chop, but due to the 8-player format, the set payouts of $60 and $40 (Third got $20) were unchoppable, given our stacks. We played one hand all-in blind, with my T7 falling to his AJ.

On the ride back to Roose’s Queens apartment, we did our best to stay awake. We were both riding high from our wins. Roose took 1st in two consecutive games. I took 1st, 2nd and 2nd in three consecutive games. Considering that we opted not to play out the tournaments, my accomplishments are even greater. I probably could’ve taken 1st in at least one of the last two tournaments, but 2nd will do, especially considering the difference in payout. I once again re-established my belief that I excel when playing in a home game against strangers. Its an interesting phenomenom, and probably has a lot to do with my ability to start with a blank read and build it through their interactions with friends. Add to that the fact that I’m a wildcard to these group of pals and I can often gain a large advantage on the group. Maybe I’m looking into it, though. The bottom line was that I played smart poker, and never once got myself all-in (that I can remember). I’ve written before about de-lucking tournaments, essentially avoiding all-in plays so that you won’t have a chance to go bust, even on a 2-outter, and subconsciously, I played a delucking came.

Best of all, I set myself up for a good time in Vegas. I was able to pad the bankroll $200, a miniscule amount overall, and I was also able to start a new win streak that has left me feeling confident and ready for whatever challenges may come.

We arrived in Roose’s apartment at 4:45am. The train to NYC was arriving at 5:50. I told Roose to get some sleep and I set up on his couch. I set my cellphone to vibrate the alarm at 5:40, knowing that the train was a 5 minute walk away. I watched TV as my eyes involuntarily closed. At 5:35, I woke myself up and stared at the TV, trying to follow the drivel in order to keep my brain from shutting down again. It was like being in a hazy dream. 5:40 came around and I headed outside. Dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, I was shocked by how cold the morning air was. I was dressed for the late afternoon, when I originally headed to LI from the day before. I was unshowered, and fairly disheveled from my day-old clothes. I waited in a bank ATM to hide from the cold as I eyed the train tracks. When I heard the rumble, I ran downstairs and found a seat in the train far enough away from the sitting pool of vomit. When I arrived in NYC, I avoided the subway for a taxi instead. I got into bed at about 6:30 AM. As I crawled in bed, next to a resting wifey Kim, I had one thought:

“At least the lack of sleep is good practice for Vegas.”

Until next time, make mine poker!

Schaubs tagged me with a meme. I’ve seen a bunch of blogs tagged and posting 7 things you didn’t know, as I waited to be picked like the fat kid in dodgeball. On that note:

1. I was the fat kid in dodgeball. Well, not fat, really, but pudgy and lacking all sorts of skills. To this day, I throw like a girl. It wasn’t so much that I was never taught right. I just always sucked as sports and I could never get the mechanics of proper throwing down. Part of me hopes that it is some skeletal or muscular anomaly, but alls I know is that I can’t throw a ball to save my life. In fact, I avoid throwing most anything in public, besides a temper tantrum. I throw those like they are going out of style!

2. I am an artiste! While my art has seriously declined since my poker habit, er, hobby started, at my core, I consider myself an artist. My strengths are pen and ink and wire sculpting. I’ve had more than a few people suggest that I could sell my wire sculptures for decent cash compared to some of the stuff they’ve seen sold. That said, all my art is purely for my own therapuetic benefit. Here’s a sample of the stuff I have in my office, a wire man flying a kite and a wire angel with an American flag, made shortly after Sept. 11:

3. Sometimes I say the word “blue” when I mean “orange” and vice versa. Oddly, I see the color, I know what it is, but my mouth will just say the wrong thing. I usually catch it, but it is entirely subconscious. Even more odd, blue and orange are complimentary colors, meaning that they are opposites. I sometimes say “pink” instead of “purple” too, but at least those colors are close. When I say orange instead of blue people just look at me like I’m crazy.

4. After surviving two serious car crashes with nothing more than scratches, one in which our 15-foot Penske truck rolled four times and another where a Jeep I rode in flipped onto its back, I came to the only logical conclusion: I am invincible!

5. In college, I started a fraternity with a bunch of friends. The hardest part was NOT pledging. It’s hard to get street rep that way. The fraternity still exists and is doing well. Our main goal was to create a fraternity where the brothers treat each other like family, and there is no homosexual acts, violence or excessive intoxicants as part of pledging. For the most part, aside from some mild violence, the fraternity has held to that standard.

6. I am allergic to penicillin.

7. If I were a DJ, my DJ name would be DJ Mop N’ Glow. It was originally DJ Scratch N’ Sniff until I found a DJ in Germany by that monicker. My other aliases include Phil Lapitus and Jude Wilson. I always have them on hand, but have rarely used them.

Boy, it felt good to get that all out. I didn’t expect to cry this much, but once I got going…

If you like these, you may want to take a look at my old July 2005 post, 50 Things, listing, well, 50 other things about me. I hope I didn’t repeat…

I suppose I should tag a few people, so I’m going to look for people I haven’t seen tagged yet. Here we go:

TripJax
Gcox
MeanHappyGuy
23Skidoo
LJ

Here is further proof that when someone tells you what they have at the table, they are all too likely to be telling the truth. This excerpt comes from Linda at Pokerworks, one of my favorite blogs out there.

“[On an all heart flop with one player already all-in] the 8s exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do!” It was a tension buster and most of us laughed.

Mike told the 8s that he had the nuts. The 8s queried him, “Really?”

Mike said yes, and told the 8s that he never lied.

Mike had been in and out of his chair at least four times and was now standing.

The 8s said something like, “Well…you did tell me you never lie…”

Mike got the most innocent look on his face as he responded, “Well…I did tell you that…and you’d better call.”

The 8s thought about it a moment longer and did call. Mike had everyone covered and he rolled over the A-9 of Hearts.”

By the way, if you don’t read Linda yet, follow my link and give it a whirl. Sure, 9/10s of you know who she is but for the rest, she’s a dealer in a major casino in Vegas and her stories about what happens at the table at a wide variety of stakes from the eyes of a dealer.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey folks. I’ve been lax on the posting lately. If you haven’t noticed it here, its been because my output is the same, but my writing has been slow and arduous. I lost an SNG last night that cost me a $75 token on FT, but that didn’t bother me much. I played well and I chose a token game so that I wouldn’t have to see my cash account go down. After all, I’m getting over my losses at Salami and NiceLook, but I don’t need to add more fuel to the fire. Oddly, a $75 token means a lot less to me than $75. Maybe it’s because I got it for $13.75.

As a wise man once wrote, Poker is what poker was.

My poker schedule this weekend is light, if not nil. I’ll be heading to beautiful Brooklyn tonight for one of wifey Kim’s friend’s birthday dinners. Tomorrow, I’m off to Long Island to get my tux fitted from Dave Roose’s wedding, just a few weeks away. Sunday is brunch with Mama High, along with wifey Kim’s family. Thank the Lord the families get along. One big gathering is enough.

Meanwhile, I have some other exciting things coming up. First and foremost, as of Thursday of next week, I’ll be in Vegas for Roose’s bachelor party. We’ll be visiting orphanages and helping out at soup kitchens while we are there. Or, if that falls through, oggling women, drinking to excess, and gambling until my eyes bleed.

Just as exciting, I booked my flight to….OKLAHOMA! That’s right, folks, the High on Poker World Tour stops in Okie-Vegas July 20-22, to hang with GCox and a group of fellow degenerates. Last year, money and timing issues made the trip impossible, but I promised myself come hell or high water, I was making it this year. The festivities actually kick off on July 18, so if you are interested, check out G’s blog and get your booking done.

If anyone is interested, I will once again be missing the blogger gathering in Vegas. Sadly, one trip to Vegas without wifey Kim, along with a trip solo to Oklahoma, is just too much time and money for me to spend. Have fun though, bloggers, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. That should give you more than enough leway.

Sometimes, I feel a bit secluded. Poker allows me a hobby that can isolate as much as socialize. While I’ve met many good people through poker, I also sometimes feel like it is a way for me to separate myself. The classic example is sitting on the couch next to wifey Kim playing poker while she watches TV. We are in the same room, but we are not “together.” Sometimes it happens amongst non-poker-playing friends. I get so wrapped up in the game, I almost shut them out. I know in Vegas, I plan on playing a shit load, and any non-poker people can keep themselves occupied. But every once in a while, usually when I’m feeling bleak for reasons entirely independent on poker (although, in a very real sense, nothing is entirely independent from poker, since you bring everything with you to the table), I’ll get down and mull over that isolation. But really, the isolation/socialization part of poker is a yin/yang thing, and the key is to find the right balance.

On that note, let me say that I have been having a great time playing chess against Meanhappyguy. The great thing is, Meanhappy was just another blogger in the weekly tournaments that I found myself always playing against. He left a comment or two here, I started reading his blog, and he mentioned the chess thing. It’s done via a website, where he makes a move, I get a notification email and I make a move. And so on. I suck at chess, but I love games of any type, so I jumped at the opportunity. Reading his blog, and lately he is posting seemingly 5 times a day, also gave me an insight into who Meanhappy is. I suppose that is one of the most interesting aspects of the blogging community. Without physically meeting someone, you can get a feel for who they are. After all, I am heading to Oklahoma to hang out with some old redneck who I’ve never met in person, all because we like to girly chat while check-raising douschebags.

So, I guess the moral of the story is that in poker, like most things in life, you get what you give. You can choose to isolate yourself, or you can choose to mix it up with the people you meet. I’ve been fortunate to meet some good people, and it seems like I’m meeting more every day.

Now, if anyone is up for some chess, you should sign up for ChessHere.com, and challenge me. I’m under HighOnPoker, but in hindsight, HighOnChess would’ve been funnier.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I seem to be reverting to the bubble master at Salami lately. I returned on Tuesday with TripJax in tow, after bubbling the last time I was there with 23Skidoo. Different day same results.

Trip and I first met up by the World Trade Center. Fortunately, he was in town for work, staying just across the river in New Jersey. A quick train ride took him from immediately outside his hotel to a few blocks from Casa del High. I was driving back from Long Island after meeting a new client, and time was tight, so I picked him up and we drove through NYC traffic to Salami, located near Greenwich Village.

I had met Trip in person one time before at the 2006 Bash at the Boathouse. The highlight of our conversation came days after the bash when Trip emailed me that it was a shame we didn’t get to hang out. Oddly enough, we hung out for a good portion of the trip, but TripJax was too drunk to remember.

This time, Trip was a bit more sober. We found a parking spot and I did my best to explain city life and Greenwich Village in particular. The Village is sorta a bohemian enclave, due in large part to its proximity to NYU and Washington Square Park. Washington Square Park is ostensibly nothing special, a 3 block by 3 block park in the middle of a mostly commercial/residential neighborhood. However, the vibe in the place is fantastic, complete with at least two groups of random musicians (old and young) strumming away or randomly breaking into song. Often during the summer months, a clown, magician, or contortionist will start a show in the empty recessed fountain area and put on a show for the gathering spectators.

This is the new clean Washington Square Park, complete with police trailers (not cars, people, but full on outpost stations) posted on the adjacent streets and NYPD cameras on the lightposts. Before the Park was “rehabilitated” it was also a drug haven. Even today, if you find the right guy, you can get pot or other drugs. The guy will usually ask as you walk buy if you are interested in some stuff, you say yes, give them $20 or whatnot and then wait on a bench as another guy rides by on a bicycle, hands you (or just drops in front of you) a little baggie, and then off you go. I learned all of that from reading…of course…and I DO NOT encourage anyone to buy any drugs in Washington Square Park. From what I’ve read, its overpriced and crappy stuff. Reading is FUNdamental!

Of course, Trip and I never did get to the park. We stopped at a local pizza place, grabbed a couple of slices and then headed over to a shithole bar for a pint. As we drank, I reintroduced Trip to the joys of Chinese Poker, playing mostly for fun. From my experience with bloggers, I have adapted the most common blogger form of Chinese Poker (there must be dozens of variations). Each player gets 13 cards. You set up three hands, two with 5 cards and one with 3. You place your strongest hand (5 cards) in front, your second strongest (5 cards) in the middle, and the weakest in the back (3 cards). Flushes and straights don’t matter in the 3 card hand. Without too much detail (there is a lot to this game, as far as scoring and so forth), if you sweep the other player by beating all three of his hands, you get a pt per hand and a bonus pt for 4 pts total. If you get 4 of a kind or a straight flush in the front hand, you get a bonus pt. If you get a full house or better in the middle, you get a bonus pt. If you have three of a kind in the back, you get a bonus point. For more details on the game, I suppose you can read this old post, which goes into much more details. I’m really not doing the game justice here.

After the pint, we headed to the club. We had no problem getting in, but we had to mentally adjust when we saw that the Salami’s daily tournament structure had changed. Gone are the days of $50+10, with re-registering (i.e., paying the whole $50+10 again to re-enter the tournament after busting) for the first two levels. The new format is $50+10 with $40 rebuys available whenever you have less than the starting chips, and a $40 add-on at the end of the third-level. In the end, its pretty similar, but it did take some adjusting.

Trip and I were seated at two different tables. Things started well enough for me. I got a vibe from the players and played accordingly. I doubled up early in one hand. A very loose thin young bald player on my immediate right called a raise by me preflop. I think I bet the flop and he raised. I thought for a while before folding. A couple of hands later, a similar situation occurred. I had AJ and the flop came down JTx. I was in the SB, so I thought for a moment before betting out. I was trying to look suspicious. He took the bait and raised me back. I pushed all-in with TPTK, usually a stupid move but highly appropriate at Salami. He called with T8s (no flush draw), and I took down the pot.

I tried to keep out of the way for the most part. However, I ended up getting tangled up by a slowplaying player (I mean that about his general style, not this particular hand). I had AJ again and he called my preflop bet. The flop was QJ6 and I bet out. He raised and I pushed all-in. I was hoping he was as loose as the guy on my right. He certainly seemed to be that loose. My goal was to get him to fold, but it didn’t work. He called with AQ, and I was in trouble until the rivered Jack. This was my first suckout of the night, but it wouldn’t be my last.

By the end of the rebuy period, I was up to about 6.5k. Trip was suffering at the other table, utterly card dead, but I didn’t know it at the time. Eventually he busted, and came over. “See that girl over there?” Trip pointed out one of the two females in the tournament, a strawberry blonde chick wearing sunglasses. I had seen her around before at the club, but I didn’t know her. “She outted me as a blogger!”

As it turned out, that chick was none other than fellow NY blogger LJ (she has two “blogger” names I know of, so let’s stick with LJ for now). LJ and I had been emailing back and forth for a week or so regarding my potential (but failed) home game, so it was great to see her in person. I told her I’d see her again at the final table.

Poor LJ. I did see her at the final table, and hence comes my second suckout. I was doing fairly well until Guy sat on my left. Guy is the one player at the Salami game that I most fear. He kinda looks like Alan Cunningham, and he always seems to make it to the final three, usually with a good chip lead. I guess I may have told him in a prior tourney chop that I feared him the most, because it sure as hell felt like he was preying on me. But, alas, he also showed his cards enough for me to realize that he was just luckboxing, with a better Ace to my AJ, or pocket Tens to my AQ that failed to connect.

Meanwhile, I found myself shortstacked, compared to the blinds. I made a somewhat foolish raise all-in with A9o, and to my surprise, was called solely by LJ, who had slightly less chips than me. When she showed AQ, I said, “That’s ok. A nine is coming.” I was very matter of fact, mostly as a goof, joking around with LJ and building a general image with the regulars. The flop had a 9 though, and by the river, LJ was out. She told Trip and I that she was heading to a nearby bar, and we made plans to tentatively meet up.

I played good shortstack poker until we were down to 4. One Hawaiian looking dude was just TERRIBLE. I could read him like a book. He was shorty, but through luck, doubled up twice. Suddenly I was shorty. In my last hand, I had about 6k, 500/1000 blinds with 200 antes, and KJ in the SB. A big stack limped UTG, the Hawaiian with probably 8-10k folded and headed to the bathroom, and I pushed all-in. Guy called with AJ. I didn’t hit anything and was sent home on the bubble. I left before the Hawaiian was done flushing. I can only imagine his surprise when he left the shitter to find out that he crapped his way to the money.

Trip and I left the club and I shaked the loss off. I lost $100 total, $60 for the buy-in and the $40 add-on. I was going to skip the add-on, since I had a decent stack, but I opted for the add-on when, amazingly, no one else wanted it. Suddenly those extra chips were worth a whole lot more.

Trip and I headed to the bar suggested by LJ, but she was already gone. We had a random pint from their exotic tap and then headed back to the World Trade Center. I dropped Trip off and headed home.

Over our post-poker drink, I discussed that feeling that I was on a losing streak. The last time (and only time) I was in Vegas, I pretty much lost the entire time. It was brutal, mostly due to bad luck and the consequent tiltage. I’m heading to Vegas again next week, and the losing streak is starting to scare me. Starting. But I won’t let it continue. The truth is, my “losing streak” is all of two games. Sure, the losses pile up, but overall, I’m way more winner for the year. Like my “fear” of Guy, I have to remember that perception, MY perception, will largely color my successes or failures. If I perceive Guy as a great player, I’ll play poorly against him because of fear. If I fear Vegas will cause or continue a losing streak, I will lose there, because I’ll be playing from a position of fear. Perception is everything.

So what? I lost the Salami tournament. At least I can honestly take solace in the fact that I bubbled twice in a row. Before that first bubble, I busted out relatively early, but before that bust out, I won 4 or so of the damn tourneys in a row. Not bad at all.

If you are a fan of comic books or have just seen Spiderman 3, I suggest you pop over to High on Comics. I recently wrote a post about Spiderman 3, specifically how I would have written the film, and the more I think of it, the more I think it works.

Until nex time, make mine poker!