High On Poker

Sorry, folks. It seems like I experienced some technical difficulties last night, when this post initially posted without a title or an ending. Here is the post, in its entirety.

Okay. Remember when I told you that I wouldn’t go back to any of the underground poker clubs anymore? Well, I lied.

I didn’t mean to, I swear. But its different this time, I swear.

Oh, come on, don’t give me that look. I won $160! Doesn’t that count for something?!

Besides, it wasn’t even my fault. My college bud Mao wanted to meet up for dinner, so I met him, J-Dub and Mao’s cousin for some burritos at the best burrito place in the city, Baby Bo’s. Mao and I got to talking. He got into poker after college (as did I, at least in its present incarnation), so we’ve barely ever played together. I played a tourney with him on LI twice. The first time was a homegame where I placed 2nd out of 14. The second time was another homegame, but had 22 players spread in three different rooms. I placed 4th, ITM. Always the bridesmaid, but at least I got paid.

Yeah, so I sorta bring up that I know a dealer at a club. And he sorta wanted to play. And we were sorta drinking, and one thing led to another, and well, it didn’t mean anything, baby. It’s just poker!

The new room is pretty sweet. I’m not sure what the nickname will be here, so let’s go with the Basement Game. The place feels like someone’s decked out basement. It sorta feels half-finished, with a small room in the front with a sweet flat screen TV and some couches. Theres a small room right in back with a table. Those two rooms are separated by some sort of temporary wall, if memory serves correct. There’s another room to the right, where we played. It was also bisected by a sheet, or maybe that was a wall covering. The table fit comfortably, though, and that was all that mattered.

The Basement Game usually kicks off a 9:30. To bring people in earlier, they were offering a promotion. Start before 9pm, play for 4hrs, and get 20% of your initial buy-in back. Amazing, if it didn’t require playing until after midnight. I’m a puss on weekdays, and besides, any tomfoolery usually happens after 11pm. I don’t need to gamble that much.

Mao and I couldn’t find the entrance until Pauly, a Wall Street Game regular, walked right past us, turned, and began to open a gate. I caught up with him and we entered the club.

Wendy came in next, followed by Matty Ebs. I had no idea Ebs would be there. It’s a great pleasure to see him pop up randomly. Poker tends to do that. Within 20 minutes, there were 5 players, and we started shorthanded. Wendy dealt, Mao took the 2s, Ryan (the only guy I didn’t know) took the 3s, Pauly took the 5s, then Matty Ebs in the 7s and me in the 9s.

Suddenly, I found myself at a de facto Wall Street Game, save for the one lone player I never previously met, Ryan. Ryan was a taller than average, skinny-ish Caucasian. At first, I thought he worked in the room, since he seemed so familiar with the place and staff. But when he sat down, I could see he was more of an action junkie player. We can smell our own.

The action started off well enough. In the first hand, I was dealt TT. I raised preflop to $10, got Ryan to call and maybe Matty Ebs, and then took down the AAT flop with a continuation bet. I considered just checking, but I wanted to build the pot and the other players gave me the feeling that they were willing to call me. Ebs knows me as loose and Ryan looked like he wanted to mix things up. After that, I just played smart, tighter poker. I worked my stack up to $85 or so profit, and actually felt happy. Since it was a shorthanded game and Mao didn’t bring much cash, I bought in for $200, rather than the $300 max. I split that $200 into four $50 piles, and was glad when I had reached 5+ piles. As the evening progressed, Vivian joined in the 6s. She’s another Wall Street player, but I had never met her before. A skinny kid with long blond hair and some chin scruff joined the game in the 1s. He claimed to be named Sunshine, which apparently was just a nickname, but if a dude asks me to call him Sunshine at a poker table, I’m going to enjoy it. I introduced myself as Moonbeam Rainbow. A black guy who was very quiet and analytical joined the table last, taking the 10s. We didn’t speak one word to each other. I’m just glad I didn’t get into any hands with him, since he seemed so serious.

My stack stalled at the $85 mark, but a rapid succession of crap cards and crappier situations, including a loosening up table, caused me to waste my profit and dwindle to a ndloss of negative $30. It was 10:30 when I announced to the table that I was leaving at 11pm. This serves two purposes. First, its an artificial way to ensure that I don’t play all night. Some people have stop-losses; I have stop-times. After playing for a few hours, especially on a weeknight, I’d rather take my profit and call it a night, rather than slugging it out to the wee hours. The other benefit is to my sleep. When I get home from poker, I need an hour minimum of unwinding time before I can sleep. Usually, I need more. It’s all about the poker adrenaline. I accept this and I plan around it.

The next half hour was pretty dull. Matty Ebs and I had prop bets on the flop, and even those stopped coming in. At 10:55, I realized I had three more hands in my orbit. I decided to play the 3 hands and walk. The first two hands were crap cards. The third was pocket 5s, under the gun. I limped for $2. At this point, I was down $30 exactly, but I had a feeling this last hand would work out. It limped around with probably 5 or 6 callers to the flop: A65. I don’t think there were any flush draws. I considered betting (all I could think of is Fuel55 saying, ‘bet the set’), but I opted to check, since I figured that someone had the Ace. It checked around to Ryan, who bet $10. A little while earlier, he was joking with Matty Ebs that he needed to win $500 even in order to walk. He was about $20 short. Ebs responded that Ryan was likely to hit $600 before $500. I thought nothing of it at the time.

Ebs called Ryan’s $10 bet and when it got to me, I raised to $30. It folded to Ryan and he hemmed and hawed. He raised $20 on top. Ebs folded. I hollywooded, acting as though I was screwed. I made it clear during the flop action that it was my last hand, so I was hoping he would think that I was playing desperate. I finally reached for my chips and raised $50 on top. I was mildly concerned about 66, but Ryan had raised pretty aggressively with 77 earlier in the evening, so 66 became less of a concern. Similarly, I could see Ryan playing any Ace, including A5 and A6 for two pair. He might even think that he is good with a big Ace kicker. When he considered my bet, I told him to just make it easy on both of us and put me all-in. He chose to merely call, and I pushed all-in on the 8 turn. He called the $78. The river was a blank. He showed A6 to my 55…and then I stood up.

Everyone was really friendly during the game. Ebs and I were having a great time with our stupid prop bets. Wendy did a great job as dealer. We all sat around the table telling dirty jokes about midgets (sorry Ig).

All in all it was a great night. It felt less like an underground club akin to Fairview and more like someone’s basement apartment. The guy running the show took my cell phone number and then told me to expect daily text messages. Daily? It sounds like a pain in the ass, but I’ll put up with a lot for poker.

See, baby, so it wasn’t that bad. Quiet, private, good action and better money. So don’t be mad. Its different this time. Or so I hope.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I played on 6-player turbo SNG last night for a low amount, since I’ve decided to at least respect my bankroll a tad (but not a whole lot). I went out in 3rd, the bubble. It got me thinking about what I wrote about yesterday. Am I openning up too much on the bubble and at the lower payout spots? In yesterday’s SNG, I was utilizing a decent push-or-fold strategy once I had less than 10x the BB. We were obviously shorthanded at 3 players left, and I was dealt KQ in the BB. The SB was a huge stack and min-raised me. Even though I was fairly short, I liked the KQ. I considered pushing, which would be my usual move. With blinds of 60/120, and his raise to 240, a push would cost him an additional 1k (actually 960). In the end, I decided the smart move would be to call, see a flop, and if I hit my K or Q, push when I actually had a hand. The flop was King high, with no flush or straight draws. He checked. I pushed, and he called with AA. Bad play? Bad luck? Or bad of me to get to the bubble as a shortstack? I didn’t have any good hands during the tournament and I thought my patient strategy was correct, so this may have been a situation where it just wasn’t my day.

I still don’t have an answer, per se, but a comment from reader Randy really got me to reconsider my concerns. Randy wrote:

“All of the tourney pros I’ve heard comment on this say that there are long periods of no cashes. It’s easy to get confused by the news hounds’ reporting of the amazing run of cashes from the Johnie Unknowns. For me, I’ll take the pros’ views and keep playing a good game. Results will come when they do.”

Randy has some valid points. Tournament poker naturally involves stretches where even the most skilled players fail to cash. This is probably less so with online single-table SNGs, since they are quicker and a bit more formulaic, but yesteday aside, the majority of my concerns involved live MTTs and small tournaments.

This all begs the question, how does one know when they need to revamp their game or continue plugging along? This is not the soul-searching of a losing player. I’ve actually had some nice results lately at the I Had Outs cash game and I moneyed in both of the Wall Street tournaments. I am not positive, but I believe I was the only person that night to money in both tourneys, even if my moneying meant a profit of $10. In fact, part of me feels like those two games may’ve been the start of a streak. It may just be wishful thinking, but part of me feels like I am playing really well. So, revamping my game may derail my recent success.

Ah, introspection, how do I love thee? Questions will be left unanswered, but I’m still super happy that I’ve been able to spend so much time with my second love, poker.

I was at the Courthouse this morning on four different motions in one of my problem cases. Ironically, its the worst, least valuable cases that take up the most time. It seems like the big ones almost take care of themselves once you set them on the right trajectory. After losing one motion, winning one motion, and getting a push on the last two, I went out in the hallway to talk with my adversary. He, like me, is a relatively young attorney, so we talked about that dynamic in a firm until I felt a tap on my shoulder. As I turned around, I saw an old classmate from lawschool, Melissa. Melissa and I were in a mediation seminar together, where we eventually had an opportunity to mediate Small Claims Court cases. Melissa and I would routinely take trains back and forth to the Courthouse in Queens on Wednesday nights to convince people with petty claims to settle or convince jerks holding out on petty sums to actually pay. During those train rides, we talked about a lot of things, one of which, naturally, was poker.

Within five minutes into our conversation, I already recounted how I was happily married to the wonderful wifey Kim, and how my career path had gone over the last three years. It didn’t take long, then, to get to poker. Melissa was one of the few girls who actually attended my home games when I lived in Murray Hill. I mentioned how I had a website and how poker was going well. We swapped business cards, and I may help her get into some of the games I play in the city. It was great catching up, as she was one of the few people in law school who I actually liked on a personal level.

But the interesting aspect was that our conversation went: Wife, Work, Poker. That really sums it up for me. Poker has become such an ingrained part of who I am. I write about it on a daily basis. I play on an almost daily basis online or live. I play live once or twice a week. Outside of time spent with wifey Kim, its my biggest mode of social interaction. I see my non-poker friends, but not on a weekly basis, or at least not one of them particularly on a weekly basis.

Poker is a lot more than a game. It is my challenge in life. It is my goal in life. It is my company in life. It’s been a great journey for the last three years on this blog and the one or two years before it. I’ve accomplished a lot of my goals, and going forward, my goals will continue to evolve as I do.

But I guess that all boils down to more introspection.

So, let’s do some story time. This is a true story about one of the cases in Small Claims Court. I wasn’t involved in the negotiation directly, but my colleagues kept me informed as it progressed, and it is the epitome of stupidity.

A woman sued a shoe store because, according to her, they overcharged her on two pairs of shoes. The woman claimed that she picked up two pairs of $19.99 shoes and brought them to the register. They rang up as $24.99, so she argued with the clerk. The clerk asked to see the sign advertising them as $19.99. When the woman took the clerk to the rack of shoes, the sign magically said $24.99. At this point, the woman allegedly got back to the front of the line and held up all of the registers as she pronounced that the store changed the sign AFTER she took the shoes. It was a bait and switch, damnit, from the nefarious shoe store that must’ve had a midget working underneath the table to switch signs as customers took the 10 foot walk from display to register! A travesty! So, the woman sued the shoe store for $10, the differnce in the price that she paid and the price allegedly posted before it was switched by the Price Troll.

Once this story was told, the mediators asked the woman to wait outside so they could discuss it with the store owner directly and privately. Once she was gone they asked the man, “are you willing to pay her $10 to get out of here right now?” He agreed, since he would otherwise have to go to a judge, which could take an hour or longer depending on case load. When the woman came back, he handed her $10 from his own pocket and the case was successfully settled.

The woman won her complete $10 for the suit. The cost of filing the small claims suit: $15. A -EV proposition if ever I’d seen one.

Until next time, I fold…erm, I mean, make mine poker!

I played in the Wall Street Game last night, taking 3rd place for $10 profit in the first game, and taking 4th in the second game after setting up a 4th place save, for even money. Overall, I won $10 on the night, and spent $8 on my chicken parm sandwich. Yeah, so I won a sandwich. Hurrah for me!

Tripjax recently wrote about the abundance of third place finishes he’s received recently when playing SNGs. I suppose I am dealing with a similar issue, if only a tad more long-term and wide-spread. I can think of a handful of situations where I’ve gone out at the lowest money spot or on the bubble, way more than I can think of clean wins. In one weekend in AC, I bubbled a tournament at Showboat and then immediately took the last money spot in a tournament at the Resorts. In both instances, I felt like I played well, but I got taken out late when it was just a push-or-fold situation. In the Showboat tournament, I pushed preflop with AQ and was called by KQ, who hit his King by the river. In the Resorts tournament, I pushed with 77 only to be called by a VERY drunk, VERY bad player who happened to have JJ. Last night, both of my losses came when I was willing to bust out or double up. And in all of these instances, I am left with the feeling that, frankly, I wasn’t wrong.

So, what to do? There is a fine line between cleverly aggressive and sloppily aggressive at or immediately after the money bubble.

On one hand, there are a lot of factors in favor of aggressive all-ins at or just after the money bubble bursts. By then the blinds are usually pretty high, so a push-or-fold strategy is often unavoidable. Then you have the fact that the other players likely want to fold into the money or into the next money spot, so there may be a lot of opportunities to win pots uncontested. Finally, there is the argument that you should always be playing for first. Aggression makes that possible in the late stages, since you could potentially build up a stack to put you in contention, assuming of course, that you are one of the shorter stacks. You may bust, but that is a risk that you might be willing to take if it provides you with an opportunity for the big first place money.

On the other hand, pushing all-in works every time but the last one. I’ve advocated reducing or elimitating all-in situations to maximize big MTTs. The basic argument is that you want to win parts without risking an all-in, since sooner or later, you will suffer a suckout or lose a race. In early stages, that means making small bets/raises. In late stages, once you enter push-of-fold mode, it means folding a heckuvalot more than pushing. When you have a reputation as a loose player, pushing with reckless abandon in late stages can be even more dangerous, since some players will call you, assuming you are full of crap. So, pushing all-in at the bubble or at the low payouts can be, at times, foolhardy rather than clever.

It’s a tough balance and not one that I can figure out right now. It could be that I am remembering the near-misses moreso than my successes. It could also be that I merely have not played enough to even out the luck in these late stages. The fact that I’m even able to consistently make it deep in live tournaments is a good sign. It puts me in contention for a big win, even if I haven’t hit that big win in a while. Perhaps I’m due and if I keep to my usual play, the luck will change and money will start rolling in. But I cannot accept that on its face without more support. I can only change myself, so if there is anything worth changing, that should be my only focus.

This is all a very tricky thing, especially since I am just discussing it in the abstract. But my poker calendar looks pretty busy going forward, so I’ll have lots of time to test my ideas.

This weekend, I’ll be likely heading to Atlantic City Saturday with Dave Ruff for a day trip, and playing at a mixed game homegame on Sunday. And a week later….Vegas.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I was fairly tuned in on the table, and was able to continue the momentum set up by the initial KK v. 88 hand. I had amassed a nice stack when I took a smoke break on the balconey and returned to the weirdest string of hands. While I was outside, the game was continuing on, so it was like walking into the middle of a party already in session. I sat down, unsure of what happened over the last 5-10 minutes. This seems like a little thing, but its really the opposite. The mood at a table can change within minutes. If a player gets sucked out, his play might completely change. If you rely on your old reads, this can be very costly (or, conversely, you might miss the opportunity to make some easy money). If the table chatter is light and friendly, that also gives a hint to how the game is playing. There are times that I sit down at a table and its like playing poker in a funeral home. Everyone is quiet and dour. There are other times when half the players are falling off their chairs drunk, and everyone is laughing as they are stacked repeatedly. Even though I was playing in the game 10 minutes before, it almost felt like my reads were wiped out. And then I’m dealt,

The Hammer. The hammer is a hard hand to play in the best of circumstances. In this case, I was in early position with no reads on the table. I raised to $4, hoping to rely on the slightly inflated raise (I generally raised to $3) and my table image as the big stack lucksack. Everyone folded, surprisingly, and I tabled the hammer face up. I expected to go back to folding away, until I was dealt,

The Aces. The absurdity of the situation was not lost on me. One of the primary reasons to play the hammer is to set up a loose image so you get paid off when you have a hand. So, I did exactly what I did the hand before, and raised to $4 in EP, hoping to convince my opponents that I was pulling the same move again. I didn’t expect everyone to call with crap cards, but this was a situation where I could probably get AK or AQ or ever AJ to pay me. Any high pair from TT up would also take a swing at that bet. It felt like an instant setup, until everyone folded. I showed the Aces. At this point, it was clear that I was getting no action at this table. I decided to play tight and redeem my image, since I’d only be called by strong hands. I expected to fold for a while, but my plan was thwarted, for the very next hand, I was dealt

The Queens. When I saw my hand, I was floored. It had been a while since I had seen good cards, and here I was getting dealt 3 out of the 5 best hands possible in a row (the complete 5 being AA, KK, QQ, AK, and 72o). I wasn’t getting any action, so I just did what I did the last two times, betting $4. This time, though, Ron came in with a raise to $14. Ari calls and for some reason, I didn’t know what to do. QQ is a great hand, but I had visions of KK, AA, or AK dancing through my head. If it was just Ron, I might’ve been more bold, but Ari was playing a fairly conservative game from what I could tell. I can’t remember being in any other hands with her. And remember, this is the table where $4 took down the pot preflop twice. Suddenly we had a raise to $14, and an overcall! When it got back to me, I opted for a flat call. I wanted to see what I was getting myself into.

The flop came down T98. It wasn’t the best flop, but it wasn’t the worst either. I obviously had my overpair. I doubted anyone had two pair or a straight. My only concern was that they had AA, KK, TT, 99, or 88. If they had any of those hands, they would show it in their action. There was only one problem. I was first to act. I checked.

Ron checked behind me. This led me to believe that he had given up on the hand. I can’t tell you what it was other than his overall demeanor. Whatever the case, his check was followed up by Ari’s bet, $25. This was a pretty high bet for a .50/1 game with $50 max buy-ins. I took my time with my decision. If she had AA or KK, she would’ve probably re-raised preflop. If she has a set, I can still draw out on an inside straight draw. In the end, I felt that she could very easily have a lesser hand like JJ or she could even have nothing. After all, she had position and we both checked the scary flop. There was too good of a likelihood that I was ahead, and I had enough chips to follow my hunches. If Ron looked done with the hand, then it was just Ari and me and I liked my hand a lot better heads-up. I raised it up to $60. This surprised the table. Ari even gave me some light razzing about keeping it friendly. But if she bets $25 and I want to raise her, $60 is not so crazy. Ron folded and Ari thought. She looked pretty distraught, but I still internally fought with whether I wanted her to call or fold. Eventually she called. The turn was a 9. She only had another $25 or so, so I pushed all-in. She called. The river was another 9, giving me 9s full of Queens. She flipped over AT, for 9s full of Tens. I was ahead the whole way, but it was one of the trickier hands I’ve had to play due to the weird hands that preceded it.

After a while, we split to two tables. I was sent to the kids table, where the challah is stale and there is no salt for the matzoh ball soup. It was very interesting seeing the two tables. It was all done randomly, as it should, but our table had a bit more serious players. It made for tighter action. Meanwhile, it seemed like most of the loose players were at the TV table. The competition at the new table was a lot more dangerous, so I played a more conservative game. I eventually cashed out around 2 a.m. with over $300 profit.

I’ll be playing at the Wall Street Game tomorrow night, and hopefully I can keep this streak alive and build my bankroll. I found a clever way to buy wifey Kim her Hanukkah gifts without her noticing on the credit card and debit card bills. I’ve been dipping into the poker wallet, and its actually been a bit fun. Especially since I plan on replacing it after the gifts are given. Booya!

Until next time, make mine poker!

I played in two games last night, a $11 6-handed SNG and a $26 Token Frenzy. I won my token but lost the SNG in 4th place when I suffered a suckout for all of my chips. When it happened, I simply closed the window, maximized the $26 Frenzy window and moved on with my poker. I guess I’ve got that going for me.

Lately, whenever a negative thought crosses my mind, I return to one thing: Vegas. If you don’t know by now, I will be attending the WPBT Winter Gathering from Dec. 6-9 this year. It will be my first time ever to Vegas with the blogging crew, and my third time to Vegas ever. The first time was with wifey Kim. She had a friend from college who moved to Vegas and a bunch of her college girl crowd all met up there. I spent most of my time with the boyfriend of the Vegas local, visiting assorted poker rooms while wifey Kim saw the Hoover Dam (where she allegedly said, “Wow, this was built by beavers?” — although she denies saying this). I had a tough go in Vegas, suffering a string of bad luck, compounded by the overwhelming feeling one gets when he or she visits a site of great religious significance. Vegas is poker Mecca, and it was all too much for me to take in. If you are interested in reading more about this first stint, you can read about it in a post called Suckouts and Bluffing in Vegas. That post really was the protype for my future Trip Reports (all collected in the Trip Report Index)

The second time I was in Vegas was for Dave Roose’s bachelor party. The trip was awesome, since I was surrounded by friends who could share in my poker degeneracy. I had a great time with my buddies and I loved playing excessive amounts of poker. For the most part, I was able to let my degenerate flag fly, with minor exceptions for when we did things as a group. Alas, I didn’t have the best run of luck either, and then was summarily crushed by my inability to keep away from table games. It was an expensive lesson, but a lesson nonetheless. You can read about that trip in an 8-post Trip Report, starting with Arrival in Mecca, Adjusting for Conditions, Poker Oasis, Poker-Free Intermission, Losing Begets Losing, Tanned and Flushed, Winning Begets Winning, and finally, Decimation.

Now, when I am faced with life’s indignities, I just think one thing. Vegas. My plan is very loose. All I know is that I’m staying at the Imperial Palace with PokerPeaker and will be playing the WPBT Tournament. Other than that, I’m just taking it as it comes. Dave Ruff and Timmy Bones will be in Vegas at the same time and will likely also play at the WPBT event. I’ll probably join some NY bloggers for another tournament or two inspired by Baconkini Mary. I’d like to actually sit down and have a nice meal at some point with some random blogger brethren. But other than that, I just hope to go with the flow. Seems like enough of a plan to me.

I was looking back at some hands I saved. This one stood out to me because it exemplifies why I have had trouble closing the deal in recent tournaments.

I was in a $10+1 Knockout tournament on Full Tilt. I had over 21k in chips, with blinds of 400/800 and 100 antes. With TJo, I raised from the button to 3,200. Gray, the SB, called with 49k in chips. The BB folded.

The flop was AJT, rainbow. He checked, and I pushed all-in for about 18k into the ~8k pot. He called with KJ, and then turned his King.

In hindsight, he actually had 10 outs: three Kings, four Queens for a straight, and three Aces for two-pair Aces and Jacks with a better kicker.

Some of you may see this hand and wonder why I’m making a play with JTo preflop. Ostensibly, its a steal, which is something most of us can understand. But it is also a lot more than that.

My preferred style of play is very aggressive. This often leads to situations where (a) I hit hands that people do not expect, and (b) I get paid off by inferior hands because my opponents do not respect my copious raises.

It’s not a bad style of play. But it can be HIGH variance, because people are more likely to call you, and therefore, there are more opportunities to suck out. I have previously advocated playing tight to avoid all-in confrontations. I think that is also a very smart, winning strategy. But it is not the only one, and it is definitely not the style that fits me best on most occasions.

In that particular hand, I started off with a steal with cards that had a lot of potential against callers. The flop was ideal. The AJT flop put me way ahead of any preflop callers who had an Ace and not AJ or AT (very unlikely, given the fact that I had one Ten and one Jack and the board had one of each). This isn’t rocket science. These are the types of situations that can really pay off.

So, when it checked to me, I pushed. I was okay with taking down the already sizeable pot (8k+). And, if he had a strong Ace, like AK or AQ, he’d likely call and I’d be in good shape to double through him. As it turned out, he called me with second pair, second-best kicker. I didn’t expect that, but I damn well invited it. It was a poor play on his part, but he probably saw my aggressiveness and figured that I was making a play with an underpair. All things fell into place and he called almost 1/2 of his chips with that crap hand. The fact that he hit is almost neglible.

ALMOST, being the key word. I keep going deep, but I keep falling short. When I look back at recent results, though, I see a definite pattern. My opponents’ loose calling requirements are generally at fault. I can control that by establishing a tighter image. But I do not want to do this. In the past, I wrote that when I do win tournaments, I usually work up a dominating stack. That is the other end of this high variance style. Ultimately, if I switch styles now, I will not be ready when my luck has come in.

This has all given me new long-term perspective. But before I get to the long-term, I get to go to Vegas. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll return there now in my mind.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I’ve been playing a lot better than I was a mere week ago. The major difference is that I am back to paying attention and I’ve renewed my commitment to folding when I am behind (in other words, I’m willing to fold in difficult situations). Still, my results have been less than stellar. I’m up to $70 or so on FullTilt, still at around $20 on Stars and down to under $10 on Poker.com. The main problem is that I am focusing on MTTs on Stars and Poker.com, so results are slow going. I am consistently making into the top 20% of tournaments, including my run to 11th out of 51 in the Big Game last night (technically just over the 20% mark), but I have yet to seal the deal. I think the next major leak to adjust is my short-handed game. I moved away from the style I advocated in my post, Short-Stack Specialist. Now, I find myself taking too many chances pushing all-in for a steal. Last night, for instance, with blinds of 600-1200 and antes of 100+, I pushed in the SB with QJ when everyone folded. I was called by, I believe, CMitch of O-Poker in the BB with AKo. Truthfully, I don’t hate the play, since CMitch and I were both at around 8,500, but I probably should have just folded and waited for a great spot.

Then again, this really isn’t the best example of haphazard pushing in the late stages of a tournament. When pushing in that situation, you need to consider what your opponent might possibly have. The vast majority of the time, he will have a weak hand and will fold. Now let’s examine his calling range. He will probably call with a pair. Any pair up to TT is okay with me, since I have two overcards, for a virtual cointoss. I don’t love a cointoss, but when you add the fold-equity, it makes a possible cointoss more palatable. JJ and QQ would dominate me, but are unlikely, since I have one of each. KK and AA would also suck, but the likelihood of having those hands is less than 1%. Then we have the unpaired cards that might call. I presume that a lot of the weak Aces (A2-A6) would probably fold, fearing that they will be dominated. Even AK, which is what CMitch actually had, isn’t that bad. In that situation, I still have a 35% chance to win. It’s not ideal, but given the range of cards possible (literally 72o to AA), I wasn’t too concerned with one particular hand like AK (or the aforementioned AA and KK). AQ, KQ, AJ, and KJ were also ugly possibilities that might call, but overall, I felt confident that pushing was the right move. Now, I am not so sure, and I am curious to see if anyone else has an opinion they would like to share. It all brings me back to something I believe Gavin Smith or Joe Sebok said on their PokerRoad.com podcast, nee Cardplayer’s The Circuit, nee PokerNews.com’s podcast. Basically, one of them said that there comes a point in a tournament when you are happy to see a cointoss. I don’t know if I 100% agree, but it is nice to get a professional’s opinion.

All of this is to say that while I feel better about my play, my results have been lacking. Still, when you go deep in tournaments and fail to cash, it is not a complete loss. At the very least, I am putting myself in striking distance, and when I hit, it will hopefully pay for the losses before it. And really, online poker is just a silly videogame anyway (or so I keep trying to convince myself).

Wifey Kim and I are watching my parents’ cat again. He’s mellowed out from his kitten craziness from past visits. Amazingly, its actually kinda nice having the furball around. Just last night, he laid next to me as I played the Big Game. It’s oddly soothing to pet a cat while playing poker. Now I just need to find a way to bring the cat to Vegas for the WPBT tournament.

Until next time, make mine poker!

One games turns into two. Two losses, that is.

Yesterday was a dedicated wifey Kim and Jordan day. When I got home, wifey Kim had dinner waiting. After dinner, she was flipping through the DVR and ended up watching a show I had already seen. Since I planned to spend the rest of the evening with my girl, I figured one SNG wouldn’t hurt. I chose a $10 PLO8 SNG on FT. There isn’t much worth mentioning. I eventually got most of my chips all-in along with four other players. I had the second nut low, but naturally someone had the nuts. It was really a god aweful play by me, but I have trouble discerning when I’m getting too cautious in PLO8 tournaments. In a cash game, I’m okay with being more cautious, but PLO tournaments tend to bring out a special breed of PLO donk. Apparently, myself included.

I spent the rest of the evening with wifey Kim until she fell asleep. I’m a late sleeper, so I opted for one more game. I remember thinking that I should probably hold true to my One Game rule, but since I had the time and the dough, what harm could one more game do. I opted for a $5 turbo MTT on Poker.com. Long-story-short, I lost in the middle of the pack after my JJ fell to AJ, crippling me. So goes poker.

I was emailing with DP this morning and he reminded me of a story involving some Xanax and an airplane. Its a pretty fun story, so I thought I would share it with you today.

Junior year of college, me and about 16 of my buddies went to Spring Break in Cancun, Mexico. After a week in sun and fun, I had finally accepted the fact that all good things must come to an end. Two of my buddies, though, didn’t want to leave, and literally disappeared, just as we were waiting for our ride to the airport. All of this was stressing me out. My other buddy, Ryan, was one of the slicker guys in our crowd. He passed me some generic over-the-counter sleeping pills after I told him I needed to relax.

Everything worked out, and I found myself at the airport with 16 of my buddies and a slew of other people from my college. The cheapo pills did nothing for me, and I could see that I had hours to wait for our delayed flight. The place looked like a refugee camp, with people lying all over the airport.

Ryan had bumped into some of his friends at the airport and came over to me cupping something in his hand. He dropped it into my palm. “Xanax,” he told me. “This will help you relax for the flight.”

With nothing to do and nowhere to go, I figured I would pop the pill. I was never much of a pill-popper. I think most people my age have tried a couple of different pharmies. The kids two years younger have probably all tried many more. But Xanax was new to me. My depth of knowledge was relatively shallow. All I knew (or thought I knew) was that it was a painkiller. I expected that it would make me feel a bit lightheaded and relaxed, and I would have a smooth flight back to the US of A.

When I woke up, I was in my bed in Buffalo, NY. I was still wearing my clothing from the night and flight before. I remembered snippets of the evening. My buddy Shelly running around the airport; talking to pal Jefe during the flight before leaning my head against the seatback in front of me; petting a dog; lying on the floor. These things were really just blurs. Things I could vaguely remember, like flashcards from the night before.

Within my first 24 hours back in the US, my fraternity had a meeting. Before and after that meeting, I was able to recreate my trip back to the US, thanks to the testimony of friends and acquaintances.

Shelly: “Man, you and I almost had to stay in Mexico. While we were waiting for the flight inside the terminal, you were just zoned out listening to some strangers’ boombox. When our flight was called, we got you over to the gate, but you couldn’t find your ticket. I leaned you against a wall and ran back to the metal detector. I don’t know how, but I found it there. The Mexican guys working the metal detector thought it was hysterical. I had to book all the way back to the gate with seconds to spare before they closed the door. If I didn’t find that ticket, you would’ve been stranded in Mexico. You were in such bad shape, I knew I would’ve had to stay with you.”

Me: “Really? What? Okay. Um, thanks Shell. I owe you one.”

Later that evening…

Jefe: “You were so weird last night. What was going on with you on the flight?”

Me: “What? What are you talking about? I slept the whole flight!”

Jefe: “Not exactly, J. You were mumbling the whole time. You were leaning forward with your head plastered to the seat in front of you, just mumbling. When the flight attendant came by, we couldn’t even
understand what drink you were trying to order. You were gone.”

Me: “You’ve got to be kidding me?! I don’t remember any of this. How did I get home?”

Jefe: “You don’t remember the dog?”

Me: “I do, sorta. Why do I remember a dog?”

Jefe: “When we got back to Buffalo, there was a drug or bomb sniffing dog checking us all out as we got off of the plane. You kept on wanting to pet the doggy. We had to pull you away.”

Me: “Really?” I could remember a German Shepard of sorts. “How did we get back to our apartment. It was my car?”

Jefe: “I drove. When we got to the luggage carousel, you really lost it. You just kept saying, ‘GET ME HOME! WE ARE IN BUFFALO! I DON’T NEED MY SHORTS AND BATHING SUIT HERE! LEAVE THE LUGGAGE! You were lying flat on the floor with your arms out light a starfish.”

Me: “Wha?” By then, it was all coming back to me.

Jefe: “We got you home and you just passed out in your bed.”

And that, folks, was how I learned not to take unprescribed pharmaceuticals, especially during international travel. Now, I just need to find the time to tell the story of how I learned not to drink on international flights.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I played the Mookie last night and lost in the middle of the pack. About 30 minutes into the tourney, wifey Kim got home from a wine tasting event with some of her friends. She had a tough day yesterday, including a trip to the doctor’s office, a fight with my dentist, and the realization that moving jobs is highly unlikely. We ran the numbers and realized that a lot of the hidden incentives, like her amazing insurance, my firm’s crappy insurance and $600/mo. fee to add her, and some other benefits made her current salary a lot higher than it at first appears. On one hand that last realization is a good one, since she has come to realize just how much she loves the people she works with. My policy has always been that the people are the most important aspect of any job. But still, that realization was a hard one, if for no other reason than the fact that it negated the months of effort she has put forth to find a better alternative.

So, when wifey Kim got home, it was fairly clear that she could use some company. I love her like no other, so I walked away from the computer with so little a fuss that she did not even realize that I was playing. I joined her in the bedroom where we talked for 15 minutes or so instead of watching some mindless television. She was pretty tipsy from the wine tasting and I could see that she was nodding off. I stayed with her as she fell asleep, happy and peaceful. When I heard that gentle breath, I knew she was out. I waited another 10 minutes or so in order to enjoy our time together. And then I threw down some smoke bombs and disappeared from the room ninja style.

Once outside the bedroom, I ran, steathily, to the computer. I was still over the starting stack thanks to some early wins. But I would be out within the hour. It all came down to cointosses. Nothing spectacular in any way. After busting, I felt like playing another, but I held fast to my One Game rule. After a while, I returned to bed, and using my ninja skills, retook my spot next to wifey Kim and eventually fell asleep.

This morning, wifey Kim was still drying off from her shower as I woke up. “We left the candle on last night,” she told me. This has happened before, but since I usually am the last one awake, the candle-snuffing responsibilities are largely mine. In the past, wifey Kim had shown true concern over my random slip ups as a candle-snuffer. Her fears, of course, are that the candle, unwatched, will somehow cause a fire, ignoring the obvious fact that said candles are all safely contained within glass jars with the trendy Yankee Candle label.

Realizing that I forgot to snuff the candle, I offered an apology. “Sorry, honey.” Her response: “It’s okay. We went to bed at the same time last night, so it was both of our faults.” It was at that moment that I realized how successful my ninja skills were. While wifey Kim slumbered, I had successfully escaped from her patented Head-on-Shoulder Shaolin Pin manuever. Escape from such a hold takes derringdoo, concentration, and above all fortitude. At any moment those eyes can open when your opponent’s head is moved, with that post-sleep look that can see through a man’s soul. Once I had escaped that manuever, I had to circumvent the Bed of a Thousand Deadly Springs, each of which, once activated by my shifting weight, would sound wifey Kim’s tactical alarms. To escape the Thousand Deadly Springs, one must shift his weight first on the foot closest to the end of the bed. Once that foot is free and touching stable ground, one must carefully flatten oneself out, so that one’s weight is evenly distributed amongst the Deadly Springs. After that, the next step is to slowly, but smoothly roll off of the bed, remaining parallel to the ground. Any attempt to stand directly from the Deadly Springs will trigger those evil coils and cause the bed to shift in a manner sure to awaken my captor.

Safe and free from the Deadly Springs and the Shaolin Pin, I made my way to the door, careful to avoid the Pit of Sharp Shoes surrounding the bed. After deftly avoiding the Pit, I had one last obstacle before completing my exit, the Creaking Door! The key to the Creaking Door is to move it as little as possible. I entered my Flat Paper Stance, and exited the room with minimal noise.

Out in the hallway, I stopped and flicked the light switch. A ray of light shown across the bed. I stopped and looked at Wifey Kim, as peaceful as she was before my escape began. I reflected for a bit. My captor means the world to me. I joke here about “escaping”, but I truly cherish wifey Kim and she can capture me any day.

Oh yeah, and then I lost the Mookie. I should’ve stayed in the trap.

And do me a favor. Don’t tell Kim. She still thinks I went to be with her, and that I am not solely responsible for the burning candle.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Faced with my dwindling online roll (less than $50 each on three different sites; less than $150 total) and my renewed frustration of this videogame form of poker (my problem, not online poker’s problem), I wondered idly what I should do with myself last night. While wifey Kim waded through the claptrap that is Dancing with the Stars: The Results Show!, I opened up all three of my poker sites, FullTilt, Stars, and Poker.com, and perused my options.

The biggest problem my bankroll faced was that I didn’t care about bankroll management. About two or three months into 2007, I decided to stop following my online poker results on a daily basis. Rather, I would only count the winnings that I withdrew and the losses that I deposited. After a break-even online poker run in 2006 (I won $3000 live), it just appeared to me that online poker would be little more than a game for me. It’s a way to feed the poker crave, but not something that I had to take too seriously. I withdrew most of my money from online poker and returned to my earlier ways, playing $10 SNGs and MTTs, mostly.

Eventually, I won a large guaranteed tournament. Rather than leave the money online, I withdrew all but $50 of the $3150 profit. At the time, I needed to refill my live bankroll, and I wanted to spend some of that hard-earned poker money on my wife. After all, what is the point of spending time winning money if it would not make my and my wife’s life better.

After that, I continued playing on a short roll. Bankroll considerations weren’t an issue because I hadn’t gone broke online in years. Having 100x your buy-in is nice, but when you win relatively regularly, you can get away with 20x your buy-in and when you no longer care about consequences, 10x your buy-in. In the end, I would just rationalize, “If I lose this $11 tournament, I’ll still have 9 more tries to win.”

Of course, eventually, this thinking leads to escalating levels. The cheaper tournaments were not feeding my need, so I began playing $20 and $30 games. Suddenly, 10x the buy-in became 2x the buy-in. Then I began playing NLHE cash games, and would literally buy-in for my entire roll on various tables.

As a result, here I am, with a depleted roll and a need to rethink how I play poker online. Yesterday, I may have stumbled upon an answer.

On my worst days, usually a dull weekend day when nothing is happening, I will play MTT after MTT or SNG after SNG. I’d eventually take a break and start a new one 15 minutes later. In the last two weekends, I ran into bad runs, where I would lose an MTT due to a suckout and immediately enter another one, only to fall to another suckout. Suckouts stink, but what sucked even more was that somehow, playing a string of tournaments only compounded the effect. I felt like I couldn’t win, and when you feel that way, you can’t win.

I looked through the tourneys last night and considered putting my entire FullTilt roll on the line in an MTT. A Stars MTT that caught my eye would cost me about 1/2 of my Stars roll. The only things coming up on Poker.com’s scheduled MTTs was a $2 rebuy. $2 rebuy. Let’s just ponder that again. I hadn’t played a $2 rebuy in well over a year. Yet for some reason, it called my name yesterday. The amount of players was pitifully low, with just minutes to spare before its start time. I signed up, and by the time the game started, there were only 14 players. 14 players in a $2 rebuy, with rebuys for an hour. Just crazy.

But the craziest part was, I played extremely well. Part of it was the fact that I didn’t care about the money too much. I didn’t want to rebuy like it was a Friday Donkament because I didn’t expect my opponents to rebuy enough to make it worth my time. But I did play a bit extra aggressive, confident in my ability to rebuy and get back in the game. Ultimately, I busted due to a suckout, and then on my next buy-in dropped to under 300 (starting stacks of 2000) after another suckout. But since it was a rebuy, the losses didn’t sting. I was just happy that my opponent sucked, so it would be easier to get my money back.

Amazingly, from 300, I was the chipleader within 10 hands. By the time the rebuys were over, I was in the middle of the pack. I played smart, aggressive poker, and accumulated a monster stack as a result. I was exploiting the other players’ fears, and when the dust cleared, there were 5 players left and I had 25k, compared to my next opponents’ 10k. I then used a trick I learned from Lucko and extended the bubble by folding to the small stack while I attacked the medium stacks. Ultimately, when we were ITM, three-way, I had a good lead.

By HU, my opponent, having busted 3rd place, was about even in chips with me. Eventually, I lost, but I was still happy about how I played. I was in control of my game the entire time. I felt reenergized. And then I shut down my computer.

One tournament. That is all. One tournament to remind me why I love this game (online or live). One tournament to prevent me from letting the game turn into a string of electrical cards, as opposed to a game of skill and chance. One tournament to keep me focused at the task at hand. One tournament to remind me that this is a game we play for money and pride, and not something we do as a rote task. The money wasn’t great, but the game was.

So, hopefully that is my solution. One tournament a night. Make it count, and then sit out. I do not need to be playing poker to the extent that I had fallen into the last few weekends. I need to sacrifice my time more to attend live games, whether they be in Queens with Roose or in Brooklyn with the IHO girls. Whatever the case, I will continue playing online poker, but I will maintain my control and will. And I will hopefully gain insight into the game from doing this, instead of repeating the cycle of mindless poker followed by foolish losses.

It’s not about the money. It’s about the game.

Oh, and tonight, I expect my One Game to be the Mookie.

Until next time, make mine poker!