High On Poker

Last night, I played at Matty’s refugee game, a homegame/cardroom hybrid. The game originally started in midtown Manhattan several months ago, but when the landlord learned that the apartment was being used for something other than a domiciliary, his game had to find a new home. It ended up in someone’s apartment, and hence, the weird mix of a homegame/cardroom atmosphere.

I arrived a tad early and was greeted by the guy who lives in the apartment, Eric the dealer, and ASG, a reader and pal who I had originally introduced to Matty’s game when it was still in midtown. The apartment was fairly empty, so after a while, I made a call to bro-in-law Marc. Marc is a cash game guy and when I play in the city, I’m usually playing tournaments, so its rare that I can actually convince him to join me. But the 1/2 game at Matty’s was right in Marc’s wheelhouse, so I made the call and he agreed to join.

Eventually, Jeff and Sean showed up. The four of us (me, ASG, Jeff and Sean) started four-handed with no rake. I love shorthanded, and it didn’t hurt that I was hitting flops and dragging pots. I had played with all of these guys before, and I had played with Sean a bunch of times, so I already had a fair impression of each of their games. That certainly helped a bit, but probably not as much as the flopped full house (Q5 on a Q55 flop, where I was able to get decent value from Jeff’s Q9), flopped two pair (with QJ after which Sean hit his lesser two pair with QT on the turn) and a set (55 on a 579 board). It wasn’t just flopping hands, although that helped. The key was extracting value; my reputation helps that a tad and it helped me build some breathing room before the table filled up.

One of the oddest things about the homegame were the slew of kids who joined us in hour 2. They were all Indian (curry, not feather). I hadn’t played at Matty’s game for a while, but from the conversations both before the Injins arrived and while they were around, it was clear that this poker terror cell had become not only regulars, but the highlights of the game. And for the record, I realize that Indian and Injin and the Arabic implication involved in the term “terror cell” are all different people, but I couldn’t help but feel when playing with the group that they really felt like a terror cell. I mean, Jesus H. Christmas, a bunch of young, dark skinned males with a questionable source of money, ethnic appearances (American clothes, but somehow off-kilter), speaking in foreign tongues. I couldn’t help but feel after losing a hand that I may be funding the next attack; of course, on the other hand, every pot I won, I won for America (Fuck Yeah!).

Overall, the Terror Cell wasn’t that bad. They were a ragtag group, and even though they were of a different stripe, it didn’t take long to see that they individually fell into the same archetype as would any other group of 20-something guys. One guy was the uber-serious nerd, skinny with floppy hair, glasses, wearing headphones, with a constant slacked-jaw. Another was the maniac, with a pile of dark hair on his head like the Indian-haired version of a high flattop. He was a bit pudgy, and the nerd would goad him on after making a stupid call (which, more often than not, the maniac won). The kid on my immediate left was a tall, broad guy, almost like the meathead or jock of the group. He was quiet and based on his play, didn’t come off as too intelligent. Another was the suave guy, better looking and dressed than the rest. There were probably another 2 or 3 others, but you get the point.

Apparently, there were some issues about language. Basically, in previous games, the Cell would all chat in Indian at the table until someone finally said something. They were admonished, but according to the guys who had played with them before, even after being instructed to speak English only, they tended to speak Indian here and there. I can understand how that might occur accidentally, since it was clear English was not their first language. In fact, there were a couple of times that I was going to say something before I realized that they were actually speaking English through their thick accents. When they did revert to their native tongue, the other regulars, Jeff and Sean mostly, would say something. “ENGLISH ONLY!”

My most bad-ass hand of the night came fairly late. I held A9o and decided to limp from EP/MP. It was a limp-heavy table so I was willing to see a cheap flop. Right here is where I will state that A9 is not a good hand to play in these situations, since it is easy to be dominated if you hit your Ace. But, it was cheap and I was already up at least $200 on my initial $200 buy-in, so I called the $2. There were probably four other callers preflop and we saw a AQJ flop with two spades. It checked to me and here I can’t remember if I bet or checked. I think I checked and another player, a white guy with a bald head and a sports coat and blazer, bet out. It folded to me and I called. Something told me that this guy was not particularly strong, but another part of me feared the AJ (flopped two pair).

The turn was a 9 of spades, completing a flush draw. My opponent bet again and I called again, relatively quickly this time. I still feared AJ but my spider-sense was tingling and something about my opponents demeanor made me more confident in my two pair, Aces and 9s.

The river was an 8 of spades, making a four-flush. My opponent had $53 left and I think the pot was probably closer to $60 or more. I checked for the last time and my opponent moved in. Then he stood up, climbed on top of the table, and screamed in my direction: “YOU HAVE ME BEAT!” Okay. Not really. But he may as well have done that. Even though there was a four flush and a four-card straight (a Ten made a straight) and two over-cards to my second pair, something told me that I had this guy. That something was the stare-down. While I tried to make my decision, this guy stared at me dead on, trying to burn a hole through my head. This is a classic Caro poker tell: strong means weak. He tried to look strong by looking at me dead in the eye, but it only showed me how weak he was. My read was aided by his silence. He seemed very conscious of his movements and lack thereof. It was clear he was uncomfortable.

From that tell alone, I was fairly confident that he did not have the flush; the other possibility was that he had a tiny flush, but I didn’t think that likely given how the hand played out. Even so, I still took my time looking over the board. Even though I pegged him as missing the flush, I still feared AJ or AQ, two hands that could scare my opponent into putting on the strong-means-weak even though he was actually ahead.

By this point in the game, I was up about $200 (holding steady from before). Time for audience participation: Should having a big stack or a decent amount of profit in a cash game dictate one’s calls? In my heart of hearts, the answer is likely no. After all, you should be making decisions based on the hand and the info available, and I don’t consider my own profit to really be a factor in that math. But in reality, I often allow it to help make decisions. It’s a lot easier to make a hero call with profit than with my initial buy-in.

Make the call I did, and my opponent announced, “Two pair.” He then flipped over A8. My A9 took down the pot, and my new Terror Cell friends were surprised. “There were four flush cards out there!”

When 10:50 rolled around, I announced loudly to the table, “This is my last orbit.” A moment before, Sean and the table were chatting about a new phrase he made up, “orbited.” It’s used when someone decides to play “one more orbit” and gets felted for their efforts. Hearing this right before my announcement, more than a few people commented about how I was about to get orbited. But that didn’t stop me much.

I made some big hands of the evening playing suited gappers, so with maybe 5 hands left to play, I played 68h in MP for a limp. There were probably 5 other callers preflop. The flop was a glorious 579 with two diamonds, giving me, much like the cupless hockey goalie, with very vulnerable nuts. I bet out $11 in EP, hoping to get some action. As soon as the bet left my hand though, I started to regret it. It was too low. Bro-in-law Marc called and to my delight, the nerdy Indian raised to $60. It folded around to me. At this point, I was up maybe $250, for a $450 stack. Aside from the manic Indian, I was easily the chipleader. I decided to push. I wanted to either win the pot outright or give him the wrong odds to call with a flush draw.

Marc was still in the hand and took his time. He looked like he was having a hard time and eventually called all-in for his last $100 or so. I was hoping that would scare off the nerdy Indian, but he called too for another $160 or so.

I showed my cards almost instantly, but since its a cash game, this wasn’t required. Neither of my opponents showed their cards, but I was fairly confident that someone was on the nut flush draw. There was some light chatter about doing business (running the cards two or three times and splitting the pot two or three ways, depending on the various boards that develop), but Marc doesn’t “do business” and I don’t usually either. I was anxious about the flush draw, so I finally said, “Just deal it!” The turn was a 3 of diamonds. The flush draw hit. Fuck. The river was a blank.

“Okay, who has the flush draw?” I asked, expecting either my bro-in-law or the nerdy Indian to flip their cards. Nothing. Neither was on that draw. I took down the pot, played three hands and cashed out, up $630. Thank god I announced at the beginning of my last orbit that I was calling it a night. Otherwise, I would’ve felt like an ass felting two players and leaving.

I’m tempted to return there tonight. Time will tell if that happens. I have Sunday free, but I’m considering doing something other than poker. Then again, the Tuna Club Sunday tournament is always juicy, and I won my last three Sunday tourneys there, so I’d love to build off of that streak.

It was a bit odd playing with some people who actually read this blog. Jeff made a couple of references, like saying “Until next time, make mine poker,” when I won a big pot. The guys at this game are a fun crowd, particularly that guys who know of the site (Matty, Jeff, Sean, ASG, etc.). I’m just glad that I still have some anonymity at Tuna Club (or so I hope).

I am now less than $200 from my annual goal with two months to go, a trip to New Orleans in Nov., and trips to AC and Vegas in December. It’s poker season!

Until next time, make mine poker!

Here is my confessional. I have been playing online poker again. And I suck at it. Here is why:

Last night I played the Mookie and a 45-person SNG on Stars. I went out on the bubble in the Stars game and at around 11:45 in the Mookie (played for 1:45 hours). Now, tell me how anyone can play optimal poker under these conditions:

1. I started about 10 minutes late in the Mookie because wifey Kim got home at around 9:55 last night and I wanted to spend some time with her.

2. Either the TV was on or I was listening to Howard Stern for the duration of the tournament.

3. I was surfing the web during the tournament.

4. I was running programs on my computer to increase its speed and get rid of viruses and useless filler during the tournament.

5. I was intermittently having conversations with wifey Kim during the tournament.

6. I was not using any programs to help me ascertain my opponents tendencies (i.e., PokerTracker and its ilk).

7. I was not paying attention to hands that I was not in because I had too many other things happening.

8. I was not sober.

I mean, what the fuck! Why even play poker with all of those scenarios going. This is the #1 reason why I focus on live poker. When I play live poker, I do it with purpose…making money. And I love it. I love watching the players, gathering reads and tells, analyzing hands, getting into the flow of the game, and socializing with the other players at the table. I love the competition of it all, and I treat the game and myself with respect.

Online, I play it as though I am playing a very slow lotto.

This, my dear readers, is the bottom line on why I am not a very consistent online poker player. If I play my best, my results are much better. Case in point, my largest win came on a weekday afternoon when I was home from the office sick. I was stone cold sober, bored as shit, and had nothing and no one to distract me from the game. I was tuned in and the results speak for themselves.

Now, that is just one tourney, but it is symbolic of something much greater.

Right here is where someone is thinking, “So quit bitching and cut out the distractions.” If only it were that easy. Recognizing there is a problem is the first step. Resolving it comes next. The answer to me is to simply continue my online poker diet. I know that I probably will not get myself down to no online poker. I just love poker too much to not have it accessible when live games are impossible to make. But I can make an effort to remind myself why it is no good for me, mostly because when I play online poker, I choose to play poorly.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey folks. It’s time for another episode of the Leak, where Jordan shares ways that he wastes his poker winnings on bad bets and other money holes.

This Leak is also an invitation.

Jamie from Wall Street Poker is running a Death Pool for 2010. As the host of a long-running home game with season-long prize pools, I can attest that Jamie is a perfect candidate for running such a pool. He’s responsible, meticulous, and loves a good social gamble.

Plus, Jamie has resolved a lot of the issues I had with prior Death Pools. Humans only, bonus points for youngins and a seemingly reasonable approach to what constitutes a ‘celebrity’.

I, for one, plan on entering, and my dark horse (I’m looking at you, Dakota Fanning) is coming along for the ride.

To get all of the details, check out Jamie’s Death Pool post.

Until next time, make mine poker!

I read the comments to my last post from Hoy, Drizz and CK and I think its worth one more post to highlight a very intelligent point made by these players and to admit that, yes, sometimes, I have to eat some of the ole humble pie and admit that maybe I don’t know everything…maybe.

My mistake was this: I couldn’t see how Hoy could say with certainty that my opponent had the nut straight. I thought there were other hands that made sense there too. That may be true…if the only piece of info I had was the board and the bet on the turn, but with everything leading up to that point, the writing was on the wall.

As explained by the aforementioned trinity (guess who gets to be the Holy Ghost!), given the amount of players in the hand up to the flop, when one of those player flat calls the flop bet on a highly coordinated straight board with a flush draw and then leads out when a harmless card comes on the turn, the player has a straight.

In hindsight, I can’t see how I missed that obvious point. What other player flat calls on the flop and open bets on the blank turn. It ain’t two pair or a set because those guys are probably still scared of the flopped straight board and want to see more cards for cheap.

I probably got too wrapped up in the fact that I checked the turn. I took that as him taking an opportunity to bet out and steal the pot with a weaker holding, which still makes sense, in a way. But just as likely (er, let’s admit it, way more likely given the five preflop players) one of the players who made the flop actually hit his nut straight and the turn card simply emboldened him to take down the pot right away before one of the flush draws hit.

So, thanks to Hoy, Drizz and CK for setting me straight.

Until next time, I fold!

If you’ve been playing along, yesterday I posted a hand that didn’t sit too well with me. It was a PLO hand in an $11 tournament on PokerStars, and after flopping the nut flush draw as the table chipleader, I pushed all-in against the sole remaining player on the turn, the second chipleader (I had almost 2x as many chips as him), only to discover that he wasn’t going anywhere, since he held the nut straight.

I post these You Decide posts because I want feedback. No one is perfect and there are going to be hands when I mess up. This was definitely one of them. At first, after reading the comments, I believed that the opinions were in one of two camps, but after reviewing the comments for a third time, I see that each person, for the most part, had different opinions on where I messed up in the hand.

For the purpose of self-analysis and PLO analysis, let’s go over all of the comments. First, a more detailed recap of the hand.

It was in the second level of a multitable PLO tournament (180 or so players, maybe more) and I had already more than doubled-up from my 3,000 starting stack to over 7,500. My nearest competitor at the table was Multi, who had about 4,500. I held Ac Kc 3h 5h. Multi was the first person to call my early position 3x the BB raise (to 90) and three other players came along for the ride.

After the 456 with two club flop, I bet out 450 (pot) and only got one caller, Multi. The turn was a Jd, creating a diamond flush draw as well. My opponent bet out 1,350 (pot). I read him as having a potentially weak, drawing hand. Perhaps the diamond gave him a flush draw to match a two-pair or even gave him two-pair. Whatever the case, since I was the large stack with momentum behind me (remember, I had more than doubled up and we were still in the 2nd level), I thought I could push the second largest stack out of the hand with a push, with the nut flush draw as a backup. Multi called, showed 8872 and took down the pot with his nut straight when the river was a blank.

The first commentor was Jamie from Wall Street Poker. Jamie made four points, all worth discussing. The first is that I overvalued my starting hand. On this one, I cannot wholeheartedly agree, although I can see where he is coming from. I know that online PLO tournaments are very loose, so I liked my starting hand and for a tiny sum (90, less than 2% of my stack) I wanted to cut the field of limpers. I knew it wasn’t a monster hand without a good flop, so I really don’t think my preflop raise was disastrous. It wasn’t a given either. A limp or even a fold there is acceptable, but I do think that the raise is defensible at the very least.

Jamie’s second point is that I really don’t have an open-ended straight with my dangling 3 off of the 456 flop. I agree, in large part. I have the idiot’s end of a low straight draw. At best, I should assume that it might be good for a chop if my 2 comes. If the 7 comes, I would be even less confident. But truthfully, I never really relied on the straight draw. I knew it was out there, but I also knew it was weak at best.

The next one, though, is where I think Jamie hit the nail on the head: I misread Multi. I assumed he probably didn’t have a 78 based on the fact that he called me preflop and was fairly passive post-flop on a flush-draw board. In hindsight, I should’ve realized that I was playing one of the loosest forms of tourney poker, online PLO. Once he called that flop, I should’ve cooled it off and checked the turn, as recommended by Jamie. After all, he was not giving up his hand, even if he had the idiot’s end of the straight, a set, or possibly even two pair.

This leads to his next point: I lost control of the pot size. I don’t think that’s entirely accurate. I was in control…I just misused the control. I should have checked the flop to keep the pot small. Assuming I checked, either Multi would bet, giving me some info on his strength (at which point, even if I called, I could fold when I miss the turn), or we would’ve seen a free turn.

Pirate Lawyer, aka Shrike, also commented, and agreed with Jamie’s comments. But Shrike also added his opinion that I should have been preserving my stack. While I agree with most of his comment, I disagree with this idea. Some people say it makes no difference if you double up early because there is still a lot of poker to be played. So why isn’t the other side of the coin also true? I wasn’t at risk of busting; if I lost the maximum (which I did), I’d be back to my starting stack, all within 20 minutes of starting the tourney in the first place. Simply put, I don’t think one should play tournament poker to preserve a stack that early on. I think I get more value out of my big stack by playing more hands early and gambling a bit because I can afford to do so. Now, I’ll admit, I gambled too much with too little in this hand, which is something Shrike astutely points out. I agree with that principle. I just disagree that one has to preserve a stack so early in a long tournament. What’s the point of amassing a decent sized stack early if you are just going to wait to be blinded down or others accumulate chips until you are average again.

Astin and Fuel echoed each other’s sentiments that I made the incorrect assumption that my opponent has any clue. They are correct. I assumed from his stack size that he had some knowledge of starting hand requirements and PLO play. So, I never expected the 78 in his hand. This was not his mistake. It was mine. I cannot control my opponents so it does me no good to call him a donkey and blame him for the loss. Instead, I must turn inward and figure out how to avoid these situations. The answer is kinda obvious. I know how these PLO games play, and he could have any four cards. That means that I have to always consider that the nuts are out there. It doesn’t mean I have to see monsters under the bed; but I do have to be conscious that I cannot merely eliminate cards because a competent player would have folded them.

Hoyazo made a similar comment for which I generally agree, but I disagree when he says that “even a modicum of experience should teach you that somebody clearly has a straight if they stay in for any meaningful bets on that flop or aftewards.” It’s merely an overstatement and is likely colored by the hindsight approach to analyzing hands. It’s easy to assume he had the nut straight when you see that he did in fact have the nut straight, but at the time, there were a slew of other hands that made sense in that scenario, including the idiot’s straight (23, 37), a straight flush draw, a weaker flush draw with a pair or two pair or set, a bare set, etc. Now, all of these hands have something in common: they beat me outright (with the exception of the straight-flush draw). So the rest of Hoy’s analysis is correct. I should have realized Multi was not going to fold. I merely disagree that it was obvious that he had exactly 78 in his hand.

PLO is a helluva game. I have to admit that I probably do not know half as much as I think I know about the game. I love it, though, which has to count for something, and comments like the ones left on the last post really go a long way to expanding the way I think about the game.

Thanks for the comments. If anyone has any additional thoughts, feel free to leave them here or at the You Decide #70 post. I read and consider them all.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey yo, peoples. Now that I have some money on PokerStars (we’ll see how long that lasts…) I decided to play some big tourneys yesterday. I entered a $22 NLHE “Big Ante” tournament and a $11 PLO tourney. I ended up busting from the NLHE game in the top 1/3 of the field and the PLO in the top 25%, but not high enough for any casheesh.

I had a hand in the PLO game that I questioned after it was done. It was all the way back in level 2, with blinds at a low 15/30. We had started with 3,000 in chips and I had already chipped up to 7,515, the table chipleader by a good 3k. I was dealt Ac Kc 3h 5h. This is only PLO high; there is no low. We are 8-handed and I am UTG+2. It folds to me and I raise to 3x the BB, 90 total. Multi (4485) and Young (2835) call in MP/LP. The SB, LVC (3730) calls, as does the BB, chromic (2515).

The flop was 4c 5d 6c, giving me the nut flush draw and an open-ended straight draw, along with a useless pair of 5s. I decide to keep the pressure on, and bet 450. Only Multi (4485) calls.

The turn is a Jd. It seems harmless to me. I check and he bets 1,350. I think for a moment and decide to push. My logic is that, short of a nut straight, this guy has to fold. He called me preflop before anyone else called, so 78 is not a given in his hand. Since he was the second largest stack, but I had him outchipped by 3k, I figured I could push all-in and take him off of the pot. Just as importantly, I figured my redraw for the nut flush meant that even if I was wrong, I could still easily win this pot. I also figured that if he did not have the nut straight, I could always catch a straight on him to beat a set or overaggressive two pair. Multi had 2595 left before I pushed, and after I pushed, he called. He then showed 2h 7s 8s 8c. The river was another 4 and I lost, dropping down to 3k.

In this case, it turned out I was pushing into the nuts. My question to you all is, where did I go wrong, if at all? Should I have limped preflop instead of raising? Should I have folded preflop or raised max (which wasn’t much more than the 90 I raised)? On the flop, should I have checked and let someone else take control? How about the turn? Arguably, I should’ve bet out instead of checking. Perhaps that would’ve brought about a raise that would’ve let me know that my opponent had the goods?

Your thoughts are greatly appreciated.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Hey yo, peeps! I had a lovely weekend with a little bit of online poker, all of which was unsuccessful. Friday night saw me spending some much-needed downtime with wifey Kim. Saturday, I had to work in Newark in the afternoon, but in the evening, wifey Kim and I saw a comedy show starring Colin Mochrie and Brad Sherwood from Whose Line is It Anyway?

I don’t know if anyone is a fan of either comedian or the old TV show, but wifey Kim and I were fans back in the day, so when I heard they would be in town, I picked up some tickets well in advance. Before the show, we ate at our favorite steakhouse, Ruth’s Chris, which is still the best one out there. Since I last went to Ruth’s Chris, I had visited Peter Luger’s (regarded as the best of the old school steakhouses) and CraftSteak (celebrity chef Tom Colicchio’s extra-expensive new school steakhouse). After Luger’s, I thought I found a new winner for best steakhouse. CraftSteak was actually very disappointing, so no big deal there. But after returning to Ruth’s Chris and trying some different items (the ribeye instead of the filet mignon and a corn pudding instead of wifey Kim’s usual sweet potato casserole) I have a renewed love for Ruth’s Chris. It’s a bit disappointing that there are Ruth’s Chris restaurants everywhere; it kills its uniqueness and makes it feel like a chain. But the food is amazing and the service is top notch…and a meal for two costed $150, not the $200+ that shitty CraftSteak cost. (Side note: I don’t hate Colicchio. Craft, his flagship restaurant, is amazing. CraftSteak just happens to fall short, especially given the price.)

But the best part of the evening was taking part in the improv show. I didn’t realize when I booked my tickets that row BB was first row. When we arrived at the show and were taken to our seats, wifey Kim was amazed at my great seat selection. I just basked in the glory as though it was all part of my plan to give her a wonderful evening. During the first improv sketch, the comedians asked for a couple of things including “a random thing.” Wifey Kim said quietly to me, “raisins,” which in and of itself is humorous because she hates raisins…and I mean hates. She can’t eat if there is a raisin in eyesight. So, I yelled out, “RAISINS!” Being in the front row has its privileges. Not only was I heard, but I got a weird look from Colin, who replied, “…okay…raisins…” with a quizzical look on his face. I guess raisins don’t go well with Norway and the luge.

Even better, though, in the second half of the show, they did a sketch where an audience member provides all of the sound effects. I don’t mean to toot my own HONK HONK but I’m pretty good at sound effects. Wifey Kim grabbed my arm and thrust it in the air, so once one of the comedians started looking for volunteers, I definitely stood out. It helps having a hot chick hold you up like you were a letter and she was Vanna White. I got up on stage and for the next 20 minutes did sound effects while Colin and Brad did a sketch about white water rafting. It was wild being on that stage and shaking the hands of people who I’d watched on TV for years. It was also hella fun, and pretty much made my weekend.

This is the part where I segue into a PLO hand, but it doesn’t seem right to tack that on to a post about improv comedy. On one hand, the strategy readers have already abandoned this post; on the other, the people remaining probably don’t care much for PLO. So I’ll just make it its own post.

If all goes well, the new HighOnPoker.com will be up and running in a matter of days. I thank you all for your patience. Once it switches over, anyone on the RSS feed will still get new posts without doing anything. That is, as long as they are on my Feedburner RSS feed, they won’t have to do anything. For everyone else, if you stop hearing from HoP soon, well, go to HighOnPoker.com and get the new RSS feed. I’ll do my best to make this transition as easy as possible for you. I know breakups can be hard on the children, but I just want you to know that it isn’t your fault, and Blogger and HoP still love you very much. They just don’t like each other anymore.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Much like your boxer briefs after a good cleaning, the streak is gone.

After chopping the last four tournaments I played at Tuna Club, I finally lost a tourney, specifically yesterday’s $130 freezeout. I started at an unusually aggressive table, lost a little over half of my stack playing decent cards in position that didn’t pan out, and finally lost when I was shortstacked and pushed all-in on a harmless looking board.

The specific death hand saw me in the SB with T6o and 1,750 or so. The blinds were at 100/200. A player in EP limped. He was an old guy, fat and sloppy, who joined the tourney late. In his first orbit, he busted and then rebought in to the tournament. His limp in EP led me to believe that he had a couple of high cards.

The flop came down 862 with two diamonds. I had one diamond in my hand. The pot was 600 and I had 1,550 left. Frankly, my preflop call is against my better judgment. Usually, when I am under 10 big blinds, I go into push-or-fold mode, and that includes when I’m in the SB. But I figured I could see a flop and when it came down, it was uncoordinated enough that I decided to push. I figured that all I needed to dodge was A8s or a rogue 8 from the BB, who by my read was already mentally checked-out of the hand. I pushed, BB folded and the old man thought for a bit before calling. He then showed Q6o. Lord knows what he was doing limping in EP with Q6o, but the bottom line was that he had enough chips in his stack that he could afford to lose an additional 1,550. Obviously, that didn’t happen though. I busted, said, “I didn’t want to play this stupid game anyway,” and took my leave.

I hung around for a minute or two trying to decide if I wanted to rebuy back in. The way the rebuy works is that for the first hour or whatever, a player can re-register, which includes paying the full $100+20 buy-in and the extra $10 toke for an additional 1,000 chips. That’s $130 total. The re-registered player gets the equivalent of a dead stack, reduced by the amount of blinds that would have been removed if the player was in from the beginning but was being blinded out. I asked the tournament director how much I would get and he replied 3,275. There were about 2-3 minutes before the blinds reached 150/300, so I decided it just wasn’t worth it. I was not planning on paying $130 for 10 big blinds again. Instead, I got home a tad early.

While the streak is dead, there is still one streak that remains. I have won my last three Sunday $160 tourneys at Tuna. Those tournaments have 20 minute blinds and antes starting late in the game, whereas the Tuesday $130 is 15 minute blinds with no antes and the Thursday game is a $20 rebuy (not re-register, but a real rebuy). I suppose the longer blind periods help me a tad, as does the short tables that generally happen on Sundays. Whatever the case, I plan on keeping that streak alive, although I don’t know when I will next return for the Sunday tourney.

Thanks to the commentors who gave their opinions regarding whether I should attend the Sunday birthday party or the Tuna Club $550 tournament. I’ve considered the different factors, and while I was initially in Dawn’s camp, that being the camp of poker addicts, I have finally settled on attending the party. I wouldn’t be surprised if some form of drunken poker happens there anyway (for significantly less money but significantly more fun) and besides, I suppose a man has to have some sorta social life outside of poker.

Until next time, make mine poker!

After Sunday’s foray into online poker, I was feeling the crave last night. Of course, I was also elbow-deep in flour, trying my hand at baking an apple cake for wifey Kim’s potluck dinner party with her girlfriends tonight. I am well trained.

Once the cake was baking, I took my usual spot on the couch and pulled my laptop over from the coffee table. I logged on to Full Tilt, looked at the tournament lobby and paused.

This felt too familiar. It was the tug of the online poker black hole.

It wasn’t too long ago that I spent a lot of time in the black hole. It became routine, and from that my play became routine, until I was routinely losing money without any real thought-process behind it.

I don’t agree with the Frist-fuckers who (unsuccessfully) tried to ban online poker because of the dangers of addiction and underage gambling, but I can see where addiction could be a serious issue. People can become addicted to anything, from hard drugs to Ho-Hos, to just plain ho’s. Online poker is no different, especially in a world where people readily admit to email addictions via “Crack”berries.

I took a moment to reflect on my poker. Online poker really is the methadone to my poker addiction, but I knew I would be getting the real stuff in just 24 hours (now, a mere 9 hours). Tonight is Tuna Club’s weekly $120 tournament, and a fine occasion to go for my fivepeat.

With live poker in my head, online poker lost a bit of its luster. I imagined starting a tournament or SNG and then getting that familiar feeling at midnight: “What am I doing?” I’d get these thoughts that I just wanted to go to bed, but didn’t want to lose. On some subconscious level, I was sabotaging myself, playing games too late and then not playing my best because I was distracted by the late hour or self-flagellating because I should have been sleeping. I saw myself falling into the pattern that night, ignoring wifey Kim for the cold glow of the laptop monitor. I saw myself anxious at midnight or losing and unhappy. I saw myself at the Tuna Club in 24 hours with the poker-loss hangover messing with my head. And then I shut down Full Tilt.

Maybe online poker isn’t my methadone. Maybe it’s my heroine. And live poker is my rehab.

Until next time, make mine poker!

After losing the Mook in one hand, my $50 online was considerably weaker. After losing a couple of other SNGs and tournaments, including a PLO tournament when I went out 5 from the bubble out of 350+ competitors (ug!), I was down to a measely $9 and change as of yesterday morning.

Yesterday, wifey Kim and I spent a day with her brother, father and step-mother. We started off in the Bronx, where we ate at a Kosher deli, a cuisine that is apparently dying in this city. I’ve never been much of a fan, mostly because I am a big fan of mixing meat and dairy (a no-no in Kosher food), but I was merely one player in the game, so I went along for the ride. After lunch, we headed into Queens for a Kosher ice cream parlor that specializes in weird flavors. In hindsight, the irony just dawned on me. For Kosher restaurants, its either meat or dairy, but obviously not both since the two are not to be eaten together and should not even be prepared in the same kitchen (some Kosher families have two kitchens for this very reason). The irony, of course, is that we went to a meat Kosher restaurant followed by a dairy Kosher restaurant, which was so close together in time that under Jewish law, we effectively ate non-Kosher all day even though we only attended Kosher restaurants.

But enough of that nonsense. The point was that by the time I was free to play poker, it was already past 4pm, and therefore too late to return to the Tuna Club for a Fivepeat. What’s a man to do when he wants to play poker but no live games are conveniently available? Online (shudder).

Of course, as we now know, I only have $9 and change online. So, I sent some money to my Canadian connection to circumvent the usual UIGEA problems, but she was not home. I then put up my Yahoo Messenger status to basically beg for a PayPal-Poker swap. But in the meanwhile, I decided to put my $9 to work.

My first stop was to a $8.70 Token SNG, where the top 5 players out of 18 get a $26 token to be used in any tournament with a $26 buy-in. I squeaked out a win there and then decided to take my token over to the tournament page, where I found a 6-handed, $26 buy-in, $5000 guaranteed prize pool Pot Limit Hold’em game. This seemed to me to be the perfect combination. Obviously the buy-in was perfect. The timing was good too, as I had about 15 minutes to get into the game before it started and it was early enough that I would be able to play it through without that feeling that its getting a bit late for poker. The game was shorthanded, 6-person tables which works for my style of play, since it allows me to play weaker cards and more hands in position. And finally, the Pot Limit aspect meant that there was extra strategy that would be lost on some of the NLHE-only players, namely how to build a pot to your benefit.

Let’s cut to the chase. This was my only buy-in. If I lost this, I’d be tapped out of cash until my Canadian connection came through. So, I knew I had to cash. And I did. 11th out of 250+ people, good for $100. If I could’ve held on a bit longer, that money jumped nicely. The top spot was just shy of $1,600. But beggars can’t be choosers.

Once that was over, I still had some time for poker. I felt great having gone so deep in the tournament, although I was a tad unfulfilled since I didn’t final table or make the big money. I decided to fire up a quick 6-person turbo SNG for $12. Part of me, in my gut, felt that I was just going to donk off some of my winnings. Even though I was mildly disappointed that I didn’t final table, I was realistic about the fact that I had effectively turned my last $9 into $100. But once the game started, I decided that I would not just waste my cash. I was going to go for the win.

In my first hand, I was dealt 99 on the button. It folded to me and I raised, hoping to get one of the blinds to call. The BB called. The flop was A97 with two clubs. It checked to me and I bet again, hoping to reel my opponent in by looking like a continuation bet. Success! The turn was a Jack. It checked to me and this time I bet big, trying to look like I was going to push my opponent out of the hand. He raised all-in for a small amount more. I called quickly, assuming I caught him with AJ or A9 or some other two pair. He had T8d, turning the straight. The river was a Queen and I go home. So much for playing my best.

$9 into $90. Not too bad for a day. But damnit, it ain’t the type of money I could be making with live poker.

Here’s a moral conundrum. I received a Facebook invite for a birthday party for my buddy Randy Hole. It’s actually an afternoon thingee out on LI at his place to watch a Giants game. In and of itself, it sounds like a great time. Football, beer, food, and my buddies. There is only one problem: it’s on the same day as Tuna’s $550 Sunday tournament.

For those who have been following along, I won the last three Sunday tournaments at Tuna, when the buy-in was $150. Along with my cash in last week’s Thursday $20 rebuy, my profits at Tuna for the last months were over $2000 in just four tourney sessions. Part of me thinks that I have to play that $550 game. Most of the players will hopefully be the same, I have a reputation now that will probably earn me more respect at the tables (resulting in an easier time picking up pots), and I’m on a roll. I’ll also be playing with profits. And so, here is the conundrum:

Play the $550 event, or head out to LI for my friend’s birthday.

Any thoughts?

If all goes well, I’ll be playing poker this Tuesday at Tuna’s Sunday $120 buy-in tournament. I’ve pretty much limited myself to their tourneys, due to my recent success. Wish me luck.

Until next time, make mine poker!