High On Poker

Where to begin. I suppose the beginning.

I was desperately happy to leave the office at 2:00-ish on Friday, heading home to meet Dave Roose before we drove to Atlantic City. Right before I left, I had a meeting with one partner, where I learned that I needed to draft and send out a document as soon as my weekend ended, and then received a call from another partner, where I was asked to handle a minor task, and then was berated for doing it.

It’s not the best way to start your stress-free vacation, but it had to do. On the train ride back to my apartment, I chose to silently meditate. Whatever was happening at the office could wait a few days, so it made little sense for me to bring the stress with me.

At home, I grabbed some food and changed out of my work clothes. My travel bag was already packed, and consisted of a couple of changes of clothes and my usual poker gear (iPod, hat, sunglasses, Buddha card cap). It was all packed the night before, while wifey Kim slumbered. My goal was to make a quick transition from home to Roose’s car, and I was successful for the most part. Unfortunately, he also had to stop by his newlywed wife’s office to drop off their laptop. She wasn’t where she was supposed to be or we weren’t where we were supposed to be, but whatever the case, 30 minutes and an spousal argument later, and we were on the road, with Roose carrying his marriage baggage and me carrying my work baggage. Ironically, the smallest baggage in the car were our travel baggage; Roose and I have a silent competition to see who can bring less on a weekend trip. He won again; my backpack was bursting at the seams. His small duffle bag looked hollow.

We had left NYC at about 3:15 and arrived in AC at around 6pm. Roose and I were staying at the Tropicana Casino Hotel, located at the opposite end of the Boardwalk as our usual hotel, the Showboat. In fact, we were originally booked at the Showboat, the official Atlantic City Casino/Hotel of High on Poker, but switched the to Trop to save over $350 over two nights. The Tropicana has a special poker room players’ card. If you have an average of 4 hours of cash game sessions per trip or higher, you can get the special poker room rate. The room rate has one requirement, that you complete 4 hours of poker for each night that you visit (i.e., a 4-hr average requirement to get the deal, and a 4-hr per night play through to keep the rate). My average was only 3.5hrs, but I used some of my charm over the phone and got the deal anyway. I figured that playing 4-hrs of cash per day would be a walk in the park. But we’ll get to that later.

Roose and I were settled in and decided to look for something to eat. The Trop has the best restaurant selection in AC, due to their new Havana-themed Quarter, essentially a little mall within their hotel. It may be fairly common to have that sort of shopping in a Vegas hotel, but AC is just catching up with the concept, which will be expounded upon in the three currently under-construction new hotels.

We opted for Ri Ra, an Irish pub, due to the lack of wait-time and the adequate menu. I opted for a simple burger to help settle my upset stomach. I got mac & cheese as the side. Roose opted for the spicy chicken sandwich. During the meal, we were both staring at the TVs around the room. It was clear that even though we were sitting at dinner, our minds were already in the poker room.

After dinner, we headed to the poker room. My plan was to start my 4-hour “shift” necessary for the cheaper room rate. Unfortunatley, Roose is a tourney whore, and wanted to enter the 7:15pm $100 poker tournament, which had just started. He inquired and we were added to an alternate list. Within 10 minutes, a new table was added to the tournament, consisting of Roose, me, and the other 5 alternates, and we were under way, about 15 minutes into the first 20 minute blind period.

The first table was calm enough. I pretty much just folded. There wasn’t much to be done. When I bet, I generally got respect. There really isn’t much to say because I did not reach showdown once. Eventually, our table broke (it was the first to break), and I was moved to a new table with players who were clearly more skilled than the first group. I remained relatively tight, with bursts of aggression when appropriate. With full tables and a 10k starting stack, I was in no rush. I got into a few hands with an old man and old woman across the table, but other than that, I just played a tight game and won most pots I entered. In fact, I didn’t reach showdown once at that table either.

From all of this, I had gone from 10k up to maybe 18k at my peak. Roose, meanwhile, was making all sorts of noise at his new table…literally. I was sitting there folding away when I hear, “YEAH BABY!” Actually, it was more like. “OH YEAH BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” I looked over and it was Davey Boy standing up and cheering like a mad man. I later found out that his pocket Kings held up against two all-in players. My boy had amassed a 40k+ stack.

A little while later, I felt my leg vibrate and I took out my cell phone. A text message was received from Dave Ruff reading, “I’m here.” I checked the clock, 9:00. SHIT! On the carride to AC, Roose and I were discussing prop bets. We argued for a good 20 minutes to set a line for Ruff’s arrival. I took 9:01 and under. He took 9:02 and up. I really wanted 9:05, but it is what it is.

To avoid any confusion, Roose and I agreed that Ruff’s arrival was official when we first saw him. The text didn’t qualify. I stood up at my seat and stared at the entrance to the poker room. If he entered the room, I wanted him to see me right away so I could win the bet. I stared at that door for 120 seconds but had no luck. I sat down, resigned to the fact that I lost the first prop bet of the trip. 40 seconds later, Ruff strolled in and said hello. I just handed him the prop bet money and told him to drop it off at Roose’s table. Fungool!

I continued to grind it out until I was moved once again. This new table looked great. There was one tilting player from my old table and a couple of old guys, a couple of nerds who looked nervous as all shit, a rowdy black guy who musta been rich if you believed all of the gold dollar sign decals all over his velor jacket and matching baseball cap, and a punky-looking kid to my immediate left. I actually noticed the punk from my first seat in the tournament. From my first seat, I was pretty much staring right at him (he was at another table). I saw him chatting up the girl sitting next to him at the beginning stages of the tournament, and then I saw them cuddling up during a break. I figured out that they were dating, and I was incredulous that they would be seated right next to each other during a tournament. Once I was closer, I realized that she was just railbirding him. I wasn’t concerned, and started a conversation with the cute couple. I was trying to get a vibe on the table, and the punk pointed out the dollar-sign-wearing black guy and said that he was super annoying. Apparently, he never knew what the action was, and would take 5 minutes per decision. “I’ll bust him for you, then.”

I busted him two hands later. I was dealt A9s and limped in late position. The black guy was in the BB and checked. The flop was AAx. It checked around (there were two MP players in the pot). The turn was a King. The black guy pushed all-in and everyone else folded. I called and took down the pot. It was the first hand I shown the entire tournament.

I joked with the punk and his girlfriend a bit more after that. She was friendly and he was pretty focused, so most of my conversation was with her. He jokingly turned to me and said, “Are you hitting on my girl?” He jokingly looked tough. “Nah, man. I’m just reading her for tells.” I was friendly, but internally I was thinking that I could cream this pipsqueak. Poker makes for an interesting push-pull relationship amongst players. I saw this guy as a friend and enemy simultaneously. It would be a theme for the weekend.

He busted shortly after, and I was on life support due to escalating blinds. I don’t even remember my last hand. It was likely a cointoss that I just lost. By then, we were about to collapse into two tables, so I busted 20th out of 70. Roose was still in it, so I went to play a cash game. I’m going to cut this short here, but I’ll add that a long while later, Roose came to my cash game table to tell me that he busted. He went out in 18th place due to some suckouts. Still, he had a great run. Oddly, though, there was a long time between 20th and 18th place. I guess everyone just tightened up.

Until next time, make mine poker!

After a great weekend in AC, both because of the company and some modest financial success, I am pleased to announce that I will be attending the WPBT Winter Gathering in Las Vegas, Nevada. I will be riding solo (i.e., without wifey Kim), and if all goes well, I’ll be rooming with a certain rock-climbing blogger at the Imperial Palace, for the sake of a central location and cheapness.

Because of time constraints elsewhere in my life, that’s it for now. But keep an eye out for my AC Trip Report some time later this week.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Back at my old job, there was one partner who always got under my skin. Everything I did was wrong. If I wrote a document, it’d be covered in red ink by the time I got it back. If I asked a question, it would be met with annoyance. As a new attorney, these things got to me. I’ve always been a bright guy, yet somehow, I could not please this one-man review board, no matter how hard I tried. Eventually, I started messing up the easy things. I’d photocopy a document, send it out, and realize after the fact that it was a two-sided document, and I only sent one side. That’s just a small example, but it seemed like whatever I did was no longer just wrong in the eyes of the one-man review board. No, I was actually doing things wrong.

When I stopped working there and started at my new job, I brought a lot of the baggage from that partner with me. It took me a while to relearn that I am talented. I let my old partner’s comments dictate how I saw myself, and the result was a very literal form of work tilt. When I’d see the partner, my heart would beat faster, I’d get nervous, and I’d make bad decisions, similar to the bad decisions made at a poker table after you get that tilty adrenaline rush when your hand gets cracked or your opponent foolishly calls your genius bluff. If you’ve ever tilted before, there are various forms, but for me, the most common is a form of anxiety. I’m so upset that I messed up or got unlucky that I’m anxious in the next hand. I’m not thinking straight and I don’t perform well.

This morning I had a bit of an issue at work. The Big Bossman was at an arbitration on one of my cases. At Court, he called me to ask about a missing document. He had a form of the document that would work, but he have a newer form that’s better. Ultimately, everything worked out fine, but even so, the phone call ended when the Bossman said, “I’ll deal with this when I get back.”

When he hung up the phone, my heart was beating in panic mode. I asked my support staff about the missing document, and we eventually located it. Even so, I was flustered, and unable to focus on the other tasks on my To Do list. Eventually, we were able to reconstruct what happened. In actuality the mistake had nothing to do with me. I did my part, but it was still my case, and I couldn’t help but feel that I was going to suffer under the microscope.

In the end, everything worked out. Bossman was irked at the whole situation, but not necessarily at me particularly. But in that interim, while silently, internally panicking, I had a moment to reflect, and naturally, I reflected on poker. I recognized that feeling inside of me. It was tilt. Poker bloggers often write about work tilt or life tilt as a general term for when things are not going your way. I never thought of it as anything beyond shorthand for calling something negative. Something arrived late, so its delivery tilt. Your wife threw you out of the house, so its marriage tilt. You got fired, so its work tilt. If all of these things happen at once, its life tilt. But the feeling that I had this morning was different from those broad “tilt” uses. This was quite literal work tilt.

The thing about tilt is that it is by its nature out of ones control. Maybe it can be controlled before it happens, and maybe afterwards it can be recovered from, but if you are in the throws of tilt, it essentially means that you are out of control. Your behavior is controlled by raw emotions (often misplaced emotions); your actions are controlled by impulse; your mind is controlled by panic, frustration or confusion. I took some time to focus on my present work tilt. I had to re-establish control over myself. Worrying was going to get me nowhere except for the fast track to coronary disease. I needed to re-center myself.

A long time ago, slb159 (get better, buddy) and I were chatting about the tilt he experiences when he folds a hand that would’ve flopped a monster. I never understood that form of tilt. To me, you folded when your hand sucked, so the flop didn’t matter. The decision was correct. At the time, I preached acceptance. Accept the fact that you would have flopped a monster, and accept the fact that you had already folded. Don’t dwell on these things because they are not worth thinking about, once you’ve accepted the reality of the situation.

Acceptance in a key tenant in Buddhism and meditation. Its also a key step in most Anonymous programs (including GamAnon…hint hint…wait a second, did I just hint to myself? shit!). The reasons are simple. If you accept the reality of a situation, you can move beyond fighting what cannot be changed, and you can regain a sense of control by focusing on what you can change.

That was what I needed. I accepted that there was a mistake made somewhere along the way that had nothing to do with me. I accepted that I might become the fallguy. I accepted that whatever was going to happen, it was out of my hands.

It didn’t work fully. I still feel the adrenaline and tension coursing through my body as I type this hours later. But I’m learning.

So, what did poker teach me about my work? It taught me that tilt can affect performance in any environment. It taught me that tilt must be controlled before it happens, if at all possible, by accepting life’s curveballs as they come. It taught me that once I hit tilt, I need to take a step back to recollect my thoughts and accept the reality of my situation before I can move forward.

Until next time, make mine poker!

After last week’s $270 win at the Financial Game, I have been reinvigorated for live poker play. Last night, I made my return to the Wall Street Game with the hope that I could start off strong in my first tournament of the Season 5 of the Wall Street Game. For those not in the know, the host pulls a few dollars out of each buy-in for a season-long prizepool, and keeps track of stats as the season progresses. The player with the best stats who has played a minimum of 1/3 of the tournaments wins 1/2 of the prize pool. The next 9 or 10 players get a winner-takes-all freeroll for the other half of the prize pool.

Sadly, I fell short in Season 4, but made it into the tournament of champions. Even sadder, I’ll be away this weekend (okay, not so sad, since I’ll be in AC), so I have to give up my seat to the next eligible player, Pervey Pauly. Fortunately, Jamie, the WSG host, is a smart guy and has a rule where if Pauly wins, I get half of his winnings. So, good luck, Pauly. You better not fuck up!

As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, my goal was to start Season 5 strong AND eke out a profit in the .50/1 NLHE cash game that followed the one tournament. In the past, I’ve had some trouble being profitable in the WSG cash games. Usually, I just donk it up, making bad calls and chatting way too much. Essentially, I have more fun, but less profit. A lot less profit. But then again, as I said last night to Bakini Mary, “I’m not trying to slit anyone’s throat here.” It is a friendly game, after all.

Still, losing sucks, so I decided to win some money. My first goal, however, fell woefully short. Rather than placing 1st in the tournament, I opted for 1st out of the tournament. Unlike the usual tournament vibe, this was a very tight game. Most of the hands were won with 3x BB preflop raises. I figured it was time to start utilizing the table’s tightness after we entered the 50/100 blind level (2500 starting chips). I was in EP and decided to limp with J8s. It folded around to the SB, who called, and the BB, Alceste, who decided to raise. A minute before this, I was lamenting the tightness of the game, so I saw Alceste’s raise as a preflop position bet. I opted to call, with the hope that I could hit a Jack and take down the pot. The flop was Jack-high, he bet out and I raised all-in. He called after thinking for a while (before realizing that pot odds dictated a call), and then showed KK to my top pair, Jacks.

After busting, I heated up some of the leftover ziti I brought with me. I grabbed a bottle of water and sat down on the couch, remote in hand. I settled on Wheel of Fortune in the background as I ate my dinner. One of the greatest things about the WSG is that its so comfortable. The proximity to home means I can always stop home and change after work (yesterday had me in full out don’t-give-a-shit mode, with a ratty t-shirt and garish plaid shorts because, hey, they were ‘clean’). After dinner, I checked the clock: 7:45. I had a good hour and a half before the cash game, so I considered what I could do with my time. Ultimately, when it looked like no one else was busting out anytime soon, I made a quick, discrete exit. Within 5 minutes, I was home, on my couch, hanging with wifey Kim. We watched the Big Bang Theory, which is a pretty good sitcom although a bit too sitcommy, and an episode of some other show that now escapes me. I helped her bring the heavy basket of laundry back to the apartment, and then I made my 2nd exit of the evening, running about four blocks through a sudden torrential downpour while my iPod screamed Elvis Presley’s “A Little Less Conversation”.

When I got back into the Wall Street Game, Bakini Mary and Tony were playing HU for the top spot. Mary won, and we eventually retook our seats to start the cash game. Skidoo remained on the couch, where he finished a PLO SNG on his laptop, moneying in 2nd place. In the meanwhile, I was playing .50/1 NLHE and doing my best to remain profitable.

I don’t recall many hands except for the one I will go over in detail. What I do remember is that there was one action player at the table, and when I say “action player” I mean donkey. Its always dangerous posting things like that on this blog, and I hope that if the donkey, er, player, reads this, he understands that I must remain true to my readers. This player was in a lot of pots, and was clearly unable to control his nervous habits. I watched this player carefully, especially after he made a play on me in the early goings. This hand, I do sorta recall. I think I raised to 5 or so in MP/LP with decent high cards, but nothing really worth raising about. I hadn’t played a hand yet and I felt that if I was going to play, I would at least play the role of the aggressor. The donkey called along with one other player, Scott, sitting directly to my right. The flop was J65, and both players checked. I put out a continuation bet and the donkey pushed all-in. That was a sizeable sum, so I folded when it got back to me. He showed his cards to Wendy, sitting at his right, and I quite loudly proclaimed, “Show one, show all.” He flipped over his 67o, and seemed kinda annoyed by my request. I admitted, “I had no idea what you had, so if I can see your cards, I’m going to want to see them.” He said, “I knew you didn’t have the Jack,” and I agreed. I admitted that he was ahead. Scott leaned over and whispered incredulously, “He was ahead with 6s?” It was true and I didn’t hide it. But I did repeat under my breath (although loud enough for Scott to hear), “I got what I needed out of that hand.” The truth is, I did get what I needed. I had been watching the donkey the entire time and I got a feel for his game.

As the game wore on, the donkey suffered a few big losses and I saw him unravel. I knew it was time to go in for the kill if at all possible. I was in the BB for $1 and was dealt 22. Dawn, who had been suspiciously quiet the entire game, raised to $6. The donkey called. I decided to call for an additional $5. By then, I was up around $50, so I could afford to gamble with $5 to set farm. I figured that Dawn had good cards, but I had no faith in the donkey’s hand. He just seemed to want to play too many pots. Still, Dawn was very quiet, so I was cautious, even if I was willing to throw $5 away with a call preflop.

The flop was 974, rainbow, hardly the flop I was looking for. The one consolation was the fact that there were no high cards. I checked, and Dawn checked too. The donkey reached for his chips. His demeanor lacked confidence. He grabbed 4 redbirds ($5 chips) and bet out $20. I thought for a moment about the bet. $20 into a $15.50 pot was an obvious overbet. In the previous hand when the donkey hit 2nd pair with 67o, he check-raised all-in. In that instance, it was clear that he did not want a call. I saw the same thing forming here. His bet, $20, was designed to force folds from me and Dawn. Frankly, it was a reasonable enough play, since all indications pointed to Dawn and I missing our cards, so our folding would be imminent. But I decided that the donkey was likely full of shit, and I could get more information on the next card. I called, and Dawn folded. I was essentially setting a trap. I smelled bullshit, but I wasn’t ready to take down the pot immediately. I figured that if I raised the $20 flop bet, I could face a problem from the oddly quiet Dawn, and/or face an all-in from the overzealous donk. I couldn’t call a re-re-raise.

The turn was another 9, which was oddly the ideal card for me. The 9 was harmless. If he already had top pair 9s, I was behind anyway, so the fact that he hit trips would only make my life easier. Certainly, if he had a 9, he would be more fearless and more comfortable, two things I can pick up in body language. I checked, hoping to gather more information. I would have been also willing to check it down, if he checked behind me, since I did not have a definite read yet. Fortunately, my opponent bet out $20 again, and I had all the information I needed.

Its not always the case, but if your opponent does not escalate his bets from the flop to the turn, he usually has lost his confidence in his hand (if he ever had any) and it betting out of desperation, not to mention the fear that if he checks, I will bet with impunity on the river. There are other possibilities, but I had eliminated those. Other than lack of confidence, players might fail to escalate their bets when they are (a) trying to keep you in the hand, or (b) don’t know any better. From his flop bet, it didn’t appear that his goal was to keep me in the hand. The river didn’t change much. It was not as though he was worried about his top pair on the flop, and suddenly confident with his trips on the turn. After all, if he did have top pair preflop, I was fairly confident he would have bet a lesser amount. And while he was a donkey, he knew how to escalate his bets, so that was eliminated.

After his bet, I raised to $60 with my sad pair of 2s. He took his time before folding. He later claimed he had JJ, but I don’t believe that for one moment. Still, my play could have scared off an overpair since I seemed to really light it up after the 9s paired, suggesting that I hit top pair, shitty kicker to call on the flop and check-raise the turn. Whatever the case, by observing my opponents’ behavior in previous hands, his general unease in the current hand, and his bet sizing signals, I was able to pick up on weakness and win myself $50+ in profit in that one hand alone.

On a side note, a little while earlier, Scott had lost a big hand when he correctly called out another player’s set but called anyway with a overpair to the board. He was pretty upset with himself. It was like looking at a mirror to myself. In the last month, I’ve pretty much read a players’ hand and called them anyway at least once a week. Usually, its for big money. Ultimately, its something Scott and I both have to work on. If there is any consolation, though, its that you cannot learn to follow your reads until you get reads. At least Scott and I are observant enough to make correct reads. The next step is to follow those reads every time.

I should probably mention that the Wall Street Game has continued to amaze me with its random cast of characters. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: You just never know who is going to show up at a Wall Street Poker game. This time, though, was absurd. I stroll in to Kearns, Jamie and one other person cleaning up a spilt soda. As I make my way into the main room, I see the usual crowd. However, as I get to the far end of the table, who do I see but 23Skidoo in the flesh. Skidoo is an Atlanta blogger who has visited NYC on a handful of occasions for work. In the past, I had taken him to Salami Club, but when I heard he was going to be in NYC on Monday, I had to reluctantly pass on hanging out because of plans to spend some time with wifey Kim. I had assumed that he would be out of the area by Tuesday, but I assumed wrong. Skidoo, reading about the WSG, emailed Jamie and arranged to join the festivities. And frankly, that’s just fucking awesome that (a) WSG is so freakin’ open that a random blogger from Georgia can get in the game with little effort, and (b) that Skidoo took the initiative and made it happen.

So, it was a great night for me overall. I won $120 in the cash game and lost $30 in the tournament, netting me $90 profit on the night. I had planned to play at the Financial Game tonight, but it looks like that plan has fallen through. That’s fine by me though. I was literally exhausted this morning as I dragged myself from bed. I left the game at 11:30 last night, the first player to leave, and I felt like a real gash for leaving ‘early’. However, after poker, I’m usually on such an adrenaline rush that won’t let me sleep for at least an hour. Last night was worse, and I didn’t fall asleep until much later than usual. But the world keeps on turning, and I keep plugging along.

Until next time, make mine poker!

There is not much to write about today, but since I’m feeling like blogging, you’ll have to suffer through it anyway. Let’s go with a classic, “Last night I…” post followed by the ever faithful, “This week, I plan to…”

Last night I…played three HU SNGs and won them three in a row. The first one was a $5 SNG on Poker.com. I really love that site for HU SNGs because the blinds go up based on the amount of hands dealt. Because of this, I’ll often gladly fold the SB and the BB to raises for the first 20 or so hands, in an effort to race to blinds that really matter. I don’t give up on good hands. Hardly. But I am super happy to fold my J6o to a raise in the SB. The reasons are fairly obvious, but quite useful once laid out. By folding a lot early on, I get to the blinds (10/15-yawn, 15/30-whatever, 25/50-ka ching!) where stealing actually matters. By then, I’ve folded enough to condition my opponent to keep betting at me. I then start re-raising and winning 150 easy (he raises 3x the BB after I limp; I raise and he folds). That 150 easily covers the folds at the 10/15 level and after a few more moves like that, I’m usually the chipleader going into the all-important 50/100 and 100/200 blind levels.

I played a $5 SNG because it was the only one ready to go. As I’ve said before, I like the mental position of being the guy who strolls in and plays, rather than the guy waiting around for someone. It gives me the feeling of control early on, even if it is illusory. On a side note, I feel the same way with live games. I hate arriving early (or when others arrive late, delaying the game), because I get anxious while I wait. I am definitely part action-junkie, so I can feel that crave build in me. A lot of the time, I also feel an urge to flee, because I recognize that the action junkie in me is taking over. I may be a fun-time guy and an action player, but I don’t like starting a game with the feeling that I have to start mixing it up right away.

Whatever the case, I made quick work of the guy before jumping into an open $20 match. I really used my early-fold, late-check-raise strategy, to a silly extent. By the time we were at 50/100, I’d limp, he’d raise and I’d push, knowing full well that he was full of shit (and I usually had solid holdings). It pissed him off to know end, and near the end, he typed, “r u ****?” I racked my brain trying to figure out what was censored. “r u shit?” makes no sense. Neither does, “r u fuck” or fuck in any of its forms. Is retarded censored, because that might make sense. All I could do is respond, “??,” but he didn’t say anything else until the end of the game, when I wrote “gg” and he wrote “go fuk yourself”. Seeing that he was pissed, I quickly added, “rematch?” but he was apparently gone by then.

I headed over to FT next, where I played a HU SNG for a $26 token. These things confuse me, because I querry how smart they are for the player. Its essentially a cointoss for a token. If you win, you get in to a $26 event for half-off, but if you lose, you end up paying $39+ for that $26 game (assuming you then buy in with cash). If you lose the HU SNG and try another one, you are still making a bad play, essentially trying to “break even” by winning a $26 token by spending $27. But whatever. I guess they are there as a quick satellite. Whatever the case, I won after a long battle, but overall didn’t enjoy myself as much. FT has great software, but I still like Poker.com’s HU SNGs better. Its a shame Poker.com doesn’t have more traffic.

Later in the night, I played one more HU SNGs, and lost. It was a brutal series of ridiculous suckouts that sealed my fate in the $20 match on FT, but I have to accept that variance will kick my ass every once in a while. Variance reminded me by screwing me in the $20 HU PLO SNG I played next.

After that, I took a break. Wifey Kim and I watched some TV, including How I Met Your Mother, which is easily the funniest sitcom on television. We then watched Heroes, and I was impressed by how the show fit a ridiculous amount of storylines into one episode. Let’s count (semi-Spoilers, but nothing really other than broad plotlines): (1) Mohinder works with the Company, (2) Mohinder and Parkman reprising the roles played by Tom Selleck and Capt. Mahoney in Three Men and a Baby, (3) Nikki and Micah are out and about, (3) Hiro in Ancient China, (4) Ando in Japan, (5) Peter in Ireland, (6) Claire being boring, (7) Sylar back in play, (8) the Powertwins continue their journey to the US, and I’m sure there are a handful more that I’m forgetting right now. The show is still great, as it suffers through the usual difficulties facing a show in its sophomore season. Still, they are keeping things interesting, Peter specifically, and hopefully the softer parts of the show (anything with Mohinder, the Claire love story) will actually be worthwhile.

After it was over, wifey Kim wanted to watch The Hills in bed. I wanted to play the Hoy with my new token, but it was too late to sign up. Instead, I played the aforementioned losing HU SNGs, and then turned off the computer. I made my way to join wifey Kim and bed and for the first time in a while, we actively went to bed at the same time (instead of her falling asleep with the TV on and me staying awake due to my aversion to being unconscious).

This week, I plan to…make it through work and get to the weekend in AC. I’m freaking chomping at the bit in anticipation for the end of the week. Work is doing well, except for one project that is the very definition of round peg, square hole. But the Bossman wants me to make it work, and I’m nothing if not a sycophant, my gloriously wonderful readers. Meanwhile, I’m also gearing up for poker tonight at the Wall Street Game, and a possible appearance at the Financial Game tomorrow, contingent on whether it is happening or not. It’s a bit too much poker, but I really love the Wall Street Game, and wifey Kim is busy on Wednesday anyway, so I might as well play at the profitable Financial Game. This all leads into the weekend, in which Dave Roose and I head to AC. I’ve already scouted out the Saturday tournament schedule. Friday and Sunday are scheduled cash game days, so I can keep the cheapo poker room rate at the Trop ($99 and $129). I have to play 4 hours per day in the cash games. How will I ever do it? Teehee!

Until next time, make mine poker!

I had a great time listening to pros like Jennifer Harman and Phil Gordon from a pre-poker boom broadcast of This American Life’s “Meet the Pros.” I highly recommend you check it out, as Harman’s story of growing up into a poker goddess is interesting and the characterization of Phil Gordon as a zany post-Internet-boom rich-kid gambler is a far cry from the corporatized version from Bravo’s Celebrity Poker Showdown and other outlets. One of the most touching parts is when zany Gordon mentions his divorce. As he tells it, he got married and then realized that he and his wife wanted different things from life. He sounded fairly sad about the subject, which was a nice contrast to his wacky “I’ll bet on anything” antics just prior to his divorce sentiments. There is also a brief interview with an old school gambling grinder, who doesn’t discern between bankroll and spending money. It paints a stark contrast to Harman and Gordon and successful poker players in general. Kudos to the program for being so even-handed.

While listening to the program, something said by Harman really struck me close to home. She was discussing how difficult it was when she lost her first thousand, and then ten thousand and then so on. She explained it as an escalation. Paraphrased, when you lose your first thousand, it takes a day to get over it. When you lose your first ten thousand, it takes a week. I think she got to a certain number (maybe 50k) and said that after she lost her first 50k, she couldn’t sleep for a month. Yet, after those “firsts” it was that much easier to accept losing. She was essentially building scar tissue to protect her from the pain of future losses.

Hearing that really brought back memories of a recent downturn, when I lost $600 at Nice Look followed by a $400 loss at the Wall Street Game. The loss kept me up for a few nights, but ultimately I got over it. I remember at the time thinking to myself that it was only a short while ago that I got over losses of $250. (Actually, a year).

I pride myself on keeping calm and collected when it comes to losing at poker. I accept that sometimes I will get unlucky, and sometimes I will get unlucky for a long period of time. I also accept that I will lose money when these things happen.

To me, this was a necessary part of being a poker player. If you can’t take the swings, then you shouldn’t be playing because you won’t play well. If you get upset over losing to a suckout, then you are playing above your bankroll or your emotional limitations. But after hearing Harman discuss the escalation of losses and scar tissue, I’ve come to a new conclusion: The losses will continue to hurt. They must. It’s the nature of the beast.

I will continue to pride myself on accepting losses, but I will not remain blind to the reality that each level brings with it a new high (or low). I will continue to accept losses, but I will not be surprised or self-critical when I wake up the next morning with the loss on my mind. There can be no scar tissue without wounds.

That’s all I have for today. I have a crazy poker week in store, which is fantastic, considering that I feel that I am playing really well lately. I’ve been patient and focused, and the results have shown in my play. On Tuesday, I return to the Wall Street Game, and if Matty Ebs can hook it up, I’ll be back at the Financial Game with my bro-in-law Marc on Wednesday. Thursday is my day of rest before I head to AC with Dave Roose on Friday through Sunday. It’ll be my busiest poker week in months, but I’m primed and ready to go.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Yesterday, I played three 6-player SNGs, taking 1st in two and 2nd in the other, netting ~$140. I then played .25/.50 NLHE on Poker.com and managed to win $69 dollars after about an hour. A little while later, I returned to Poker.com and sat down at a shorthanded .50/1 NLHE table. I bought in for the max, $100. It was three-handed and I had a good grasp on my opponents. After about a dozen hands, I have AA. I bet, another player calls, and the last player goes all-in for $100+. Ka ching! I click call. KKxxx. Sonuvabitch! At least he said, “sorry”. This morning, I played a HU SNG and go my opponent down to 60. 60! He came back by sucking out a handful of times and eventually took the game with another suckout.

I’m not upset by those two improbable losses. But I am reminded by the old adage: The difficult part of poker is not mastering the skill, its mastering the luck.

Until next time, make mine poker!

There are more than a few poker-centric sites out there, so its always an odd thing when I am asked to review a new one. In this case, the guy behind Learn-Texas-Holdem.com asked me to take a look at his site, and after looking around, I was impressed by the amount of information collected at his site.

Learn-Texas-Holdem.com presents the poker strategy information based on a variety of subjects, which makes the site easy to use and useful for a variety of players. The site focuses on Holdem exclusively, but that is to be expected nowadays (especially given the site’s name).

Learn-Texas-Holdem.com is particularly useful because of its subcategories, which allow the reader to find articles particularly made for Beginners or Advanced players. Beginners can learn some key basics like the importance of position, while Advanced players can learn some of the finer nuances of the game (although, admittedly, some of the advanced articles are more suitable for intermediate players, as stated clearly in the articles).

Learn-Texas-Holdem.com also has a section on Texas Holdem Tournaments specifically, where online poker sites are ranked based on various criteria including the best location for tournaments (Stars wins under Best Tournaments, which, considering their traffic and the amount of tourneys is pretty much accurate). Another article addresses how to throw a homegame tournament, complete with little tips like how to keep bored busted-out players happy.

Since we are all on the computer and love us some online poker, Learn-Texas-Holdem.com has a Online Texas Holdem section, with a 1-10 rating for various sites. Learn-Texas-Holdem’s reviews are lengthy and well thought-out, and consider things like how easy the games are to beat, customer support, signup bonuses and software.

Learn-Texas-Holdem.com is a solid portal site for access to poker resources and articles. It covers a broad variety of topics, and has a ton of content, especially considering the fact that the site is so new. All in all, it receives the HoP seal of approval.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Last night, I joined Matty Ebs for a new home game, a 1/2 NL, $200 max buy-in game populated by white guys in their mid- to late-20s with jobs involving the financial markets. By the time I left, I was reminded of how profitable poker can be and the pure joy of spending some time slinging cards with strangers and friends.

I’m very greatful to poker and Matty Ebs. Ebs and I grew up together on Long Island. He was my younger brother Dave’s friend, and when I was old enough and Matty was still young enough, I used to babysit him and his two younger brothers. Life moved on and I didn’t have much occasion to see Ebs. Yet, years later, at one of Dave’s social events, Matty and I started talking and the subject of poker came up. I was obsessed with poker at the time (still am), and I was amazed at hearing Matty’s stories. For a while, he made his living off of poker in the casinos in New Orleans. He also dealt in some underground clubs. He clearly was successful at the game, so it was refreshing to have someone to talk poker with. From there, I helped him get into some local home games, like the SIF game, Soxlover homegame and most recently the Wall Street Game. I got him the invites because I knew that he could handle himself at the table and socially. I was also happy to help him get into these games, because incidentally he was a valuable source of post-game analysis and, more importantly, good company. What I never expected was that Ebs would get me into some homegames of his own, and so far, the results have been very positive. The first time involved the Lawyer’s Game, where I won the tournament and several hundred dollars. This time, it was the Financial Game, but the results were largely the same.

After work yesterday, I headed home to change and refresh before the 8pm Financial Game start time. Wifey Kim was also home, and we caught up while we changed out of our work clothers. Wifey Kim had plans herself. Her usual America’s Next Top Model viewing club (i.e., wifey Kim and a bunch of her friends), were skipping ANTM for a night of dinner and drinks to celebrate a friend’s birthday. With the night to myself, I jumped at Matty’s invite to the Financial Game. At first, I thought it was the Lawyer’s Game, but after a few more emails, I learned that it was a 1/2 NL game with a set buy-in of $200, no more no less. My live bankroll took a hurting a few months ago, and still hadn’t recovered, largely because I didn’t have much opportunity to play 1/2 NL live. This would be my opportunity.

I left the house wearing my convertible pants, random t-shirt, and a black hoodie that feels 2 sizes too small. I had my iPod and my Buddha card cap with me, but I had left my sunglasses at work. I didn’t let it bother me much, since I figured no one would be wearing sunglasses. I was correct in that assumption. I emptied my poker wallet of everything except $400, my two buy-ins. If I lost two buy-ins, I knew that I wouldn’t be in the mental condition necessary to win back my money. In fact, I sorta felt like I had to limit myself. My confidence was busted after my -$600 loss at Nice Look and -$400 loss at Wall Street, two months prior but still ever-present in my mind, so I figured a stop-loss would be a necessity.

On the subway ride to the game, I relaxed a bit more. I converted my pants to shorts, as I relaxed listening to Ron & Fez on my iPod. Upon arrival, I bounded up the stairs, two at a time, to get to the cool, fresh air. I made my way to the game, ultimately stopping at a corner store for a bottle of water and McD’s to meet Matty. We chatted a bit and then headed to the apartment. On the way, I asked Matty about the game. I didn’t get much information beyond the fact that these were people in the world of finance. That told me enough; specifically, that they had money, and were likely aggressive, competitive people.

Amazingly, the apartment is in the same building as bro-in-law Marc. I contemplated calling him to join us, but I was uncertain about the amount of available seats and whether I would be there for any significant length of time. When we arrived, four other guys were already there, sitting around a long poker table set up in the moderately-sized apartment. NYC apartments are typically small, but this one was adequately sized. Even so, the layout was such that it felt like we were playing poker in a hallway. I grabbed the seat closest to the front door and joked about how it would be easy to leave after I busted. I like to start from a position of self-deprecation when it comes to playing poker. It makes it a bit easier when I win money and look like the lucky donk (see last post for the benefits of looking like a lucky donk vs. a skilled player).

Matty had taken the seat to my immediate right, and I was glad to have position on the one player I knew was an aggro mofo. I felt a bit bad about it too, and considered moving my seat, but ultimately, I stayed put because of the convenient location of the chair. I thought to myself that we should draw for seats, but I wasn’t the host, nor a regular, so I kept my mouth shut. Some people don’t see the importance of dealing for seats. Those people are called ignorant. Position is 9/10ths of the law (or is that possession?). If you have great position, it can make the difference between a winning and losing session. Still, my seat was good, so I wasn’t going to rock the boat.

I bought in for $200, as did everyone else, and we started 7-handed, once another player arrived. We remained 7-handed until 11pm, when an 8th player arrived and I left.

To start off, I tried to limp into lots of pots with suited connectors and the like. I was interested in getting a feel for the players, many of whose names I couldn’t remember. To my immediate left was the tightest player, who I believe was named Chris. Chris looked like a young, happy Tim Meadows (from SNL fame). Whenever I looked over at him, he had a big smile on. In general, if he was in a hand, he had AQ, AK, or a decent pocket pair. This was a very social game, and players were loudly joking about his tightness. I took that cue and kept clear of him whenever possible. It helped that I didn’t have any good hands on the few occassions he raised preflop.

To his left was Peter, who kinda looks like the main character from the videogame Hitman. He was friendly enough, although relatively quiet compared to the rest of the room. He was also a pretty loose caller, and I used that to my advantage when I could. Interestingly, he seemed fairly wary of me, and I didn’t play any significant pots with him, although I did win a few pots by getting him to call preflop and sometimes flop bets, only to fold to turn bets.

To his left was the host. Amazingly, I don’t recall his name. He looked like a fairly typical post-frat guy. He sported a shirt that said in bold letters, “SAVE DARFUR.” I took it as an ironic joke, but it may have been sincere. The guy has a charming smile and a hot girlfriend (who later came home, showered and walked around the apartment a bit, while I nonchalantly tried my best not to appear as though I was checking her out…what with me being a guest and all). His play was a bit erratic. He liked to call preflop a lot, and overall was an action player. I made a lot of my money from him, but lost a few hands as well to his suckouts. It was clear that he was the card sharp (or shark, if you prefer) of the game, and probably the driving force behind the game’s existence. Usually, that’s a good sign of an action junkie. I focused on him for most of the game, paying close attention to his plays until I was confident I could profit from him consistently.

To his left were Frick and Frack, two guys who may have been twin brothers, for all I could tell. Then both had very serious looks, with a strong brow and a hooked nose. They also were both relatively tight, although they were “outted” as tight less so than Tim Meadows. When they were in a hand, I was looking to flop a monster with suited connectors, or else I was folding. I don’t think I saw a river against them either, beyond maybe one or two check-down hands.

After them was Matty and then me.

I didn’t take notes at the game for fear of outting myself. I don’t want all of my opponents to know about my blog. Some people think I should tell everyone to help readership. Readership can suck a dick for all I care, as long as I can write the truth. If any of these guys are reading this, I should probably add that I had a great time meeting everyone, and if I insult your play or allude to your hot girlfriend, leave it up to literary license. I’m sure you are all really good players and I didn’t even check out your girlfriend as she exited the shower. I swear.

I do remember a few hands, without much detail. I had 99 in one hand and flopped top set. I bet preflop to get a call from Hitman and the Host. I bet the flop and got Hitman to fold, but the Host pushed all-in for $50+ more. I called, and he showed an open-ended straight draw with his QTo, which he hit on the river. By then, I was already up over $100, so I was friendly as I pushed him my chips.

I had 67h once against Frack (not Frick). He raised in LP, Matty called and I called. The flop was Q73. It checked around. The turn was a six, and I bet out. Frack called. By the river, I think he folded. The point was, even when I was loose preflop, I generally waited until I was in good situations before putting more money into the pot. That was the key to making most of my money against the Host. See a flop for cheap, then bet out if I hit, double the bet on the turn, and he’d eventually fold. In fact, I think I bluffed only once last night, in another hand against Ebs and Frack, after it was clear that no one hit the flop.

Ebs was my other donator for the night. It seemed like he was constantly betting into me, especially after I built the pot with a preflop raise. He’s an aggressive player, and I essentially used my position and his loose requirements to my advantage. Like the Host, Matty often called my flop bets or preflop bets, only to fold to later continuation bets.

At around 10pm, I figured I should announce my expected time of exit, 11pm. I told the table as a courtesy that I had to leave at 11. I didn’t really have any reason, beyond my desire to relax at home before bed. Sometimes, I feel like the wet blanket leaving “early”, but poker is a game of money, and I don’t let anyone dictate how I spend my money. Often, I get the same feeling at the Wall Street Game. I’ll opt to skip the post-tourney cash game because I just want to be at home relaxing. I guess it is a bit of agoraphobia.

About 8 minutes before 11, the 8th player arrived. I saw this as a good opportunity to cash out, and did so, with a profit of $270. I expected more, but I wasn’t complaining. With my payout in hand, I thanked the host (and “tipped” him with the $4 extra I had won, $274 total), shook everyones’ hands, and headed outside. The air was cool and crisp. I found a subway and began my ride home.

When I got home, wifey Kim was already sleeping on the couch. I helped her to bed, and lied with her for a minute. I wanted to go to sleep, but my body was still flowing with adrenaline from poker. I got up to watch some mindless television (South Park premiere, which was kick-ass, followed by Kid Nation because I’m a tool), and eventually returned to bed. Thoughts and fears about work went through my head, but I did my best to ignore them. After all, there is no reason to waste a good night’s sleep because of what might or might not happen the next day.

The Financial Game plays every Wednesday, and I definitely plan on returning sooner or later. My first go-to place will remain the Wall Street Game, mostly because of the convenience, low buy-ins and fun company, but its nice to have another outlet.

Next weekend, I’ll be in AC with Dave Roose. Today, the BossMan asked me to check out a possible case in Atlantic City, so I might be heading there tomorrow or on Monday. No complaints from me. I just can’t get enough.

Until next time, make mine poker!