High On Poker

When I was playing in New Orleans, I brought my green traveling Buddha and golden sitting Buddha card caps with me. Usually, I’ll start a session with the green Buddha, since it has been around for a lot of big wins. But if things are not going so well, either I’m card dead or playing poorly or even bored, I’ll switch the card caps.

And yet, if you asked me if I were superstitious, I would’ve said no.

I don’t really have an answer for it. In my head, I know that changing my card cap won’t actually change my luck and should not have any effect on my play, but I do it anyway.

On some level, I do feel that there is a benefit. It may simply be that the change in card caps is a visual cue to change my play. It could wipe clear that part of the brain that says, “Why am I so unlucky today?” It could signal to the other players that my play is changing, which isn’t always the best thing, but could be used to my advantage, depending on the situation.

This topic came into my head thanks to Columbo. Columbo recently posted about a special he saw on the BBC about how people’s minds in certain situations actually seek out bad decisions. That makes sense to me, because I have definitely been in situations where I knew what the wrong play was, but did it anyway. It’s so prevalent that the concept inspired HighonPoker‘s number one rule: “If you are behind, fold.” It’s so painfully obvious and simple and yet time and time again, people say, “I think I’m behind…but, I call.”

Maybe some of these rituals, like bringing multiple card caps, or switching to classical music when I’m antsy, or wearing a poker uniform, really do influence the decision making process. I don’t know the answer, but it surely feels that way at times.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Since most of my recap of day one was dedicated to a douchebag, allow me a moment to talk a little about Harrah’s New Orleans. The location, practically on the river, was exceedingly convenient for me. It was halfway between my hotel and the convention where wifey Kim’s conference was held. The building itself takes up a decent amount of space, and across the street is the Harrah’s hotel, which seems to take up several more city blocks across its multiple buildings. By law, the casino has to be separate from the hotel, just another peculiar local rule (which incidentally makes some sense).

The casino is a nice size, with a row of table games in the middle, one solitary cashier cage (there may’ve been another, but I couldn’t find it), and tons of slots. The poker room was off to the side, but clearly visible from the casino floor. It was marked off with a half-wall, which allowed cigarette smoke and the ding of slot machines pass through the poker oasis. Of course, no smoking is allowed in the poker room, but many of the tables are 3 ft from the rail, where the chain smokers like to hang out between hands.

The poker room has about 16-20 tables, with 12 in the main area and the rest in an alcove-like room in the back. The games spread while I was there included 1/2 NL, 2/5 NL, 3/6 LHE (which incidentally will be increased to 4/8 on Dec. 1 by Harrah’s management), 4/8 Mixed LHE/LO Hi, and 15/30 LO Hi. There was also an interest list for 1/2 PLO, but I don’t think that game ever got off.

The players, at least at 1/2, were pretty loose. There were a lot of calling stations with hopeless hands. There were consistently at least 2 straight up donators at the 1/2 table over the course of the 5+ hours I played, and at times, there were 3 or more. Besides the donators, some of the local tough guys were way too loose to be winning players over the long haul.

Speaking of locals, the room is filled with them. At least 60% (and probably closer to 70 or 80%) of the players there were local regulars. And there must be something about the Creole way of life, but for the most part, they were a crass group. Cursing was the norm, as well as some really hardcore ribbing. I don’t particularly mind that. The less formal, the better. But some of it blew my mind. People would call across the room to another local just to give them shit about a hand from last night. “HEY JERRY, YOU DUMB FUCK! YOU GIVE AWAY ALL THAT MONEY I LOST TO YOU LAST NIGHT YET?!” My favorite line ironically came from the bald douche, when the morbidly obese local stood up to head to the bathroom: “DON’T TOUCH YOURSELF IN THERE!”

I don’t mind rowdiness, but there was a ton of assholery going on. And amazingly, the dealers and floor staff didn’t do shit to stop it. In fact, there were some flagrant bad behavior, like folding by throwing cards about two feet off of the table, high enough so that the other half of the table could clearly see the cards. This was happening a lot, but the dealer didn’t say jack, and I wasn’t going to get involved since I’m just visiting. The dealing itself was professional and well done, but there wasn’t even the slightest pretense that the dealers were in control of the game.

If the dealers were bad, the floor was just horrible. When I first arrived, I had to wait 5 minutes before the fat piece of shit floor would ask me what table I wanted. Lord knows what the guy was doing. He looked like a 5 year old lost at the mall.

I noticed on Day 1 that the other 1/2 NLHE table was basically on hold for about 30 minutes. 1/2 NLHE (and 2/5 NLHE) has a $6/half hour fee instead of a rake. Apparently, the other table was on pause while the dealer’s chips were replenished. Some of the players got up and didn’t come back for a while and the other players refused to pay the $6 rake because they were six-handed. When a table is brand new, the first time charge is reduced to $3, but the floor wouldn’t let them “reset” the table and pay the lesser rake. So instead, the casino made no money for well over 30 minutes. If I was at that table doing nothing for 30 minutes, I would’ve walked. That’s just bad management.

There is a bad beat jackpot for Hold’em, Omaha, and Stud, but I didn’t see any stud games running. The biggest jackpot was the Hold’em jackpot, around $40k. It was hit on Tuesday, hence the lesser amount. When it was hit, the loser (i.e., the guy who benefited the most from the bad beat jackpot) received over $50k, and over $35k after taxes. I know because he had sat next to me at 1/2 on Day 1 before the douche. Not bad at all. The Omaha bad beat and Stud bad beat was about $4-5k, but free money is free money.

So, time to discuss Day 2. Let’s just rip this bandaid off quick. I lost $345 on my very first hand. I arrived and put myself on the 1/2 NLHE, 4/8 Mixed, and 2/5 NLHE lists. I don’t usually play 2/5, but after my nice take the day before ($540 profit) and my desire to make more money at poker, I thought it was time. 2/5 had a seat open, so I sat down and bought in for $400. The chip runner was getting my chips as I looked down to 77 in EP/MP. I raised to $20. The guy on my left, a fat guy with goatee and hat, asked, “So soon?” I answered, “I wish I could fold, but I can’t with these cards.” It folded to the BB, another fat guy, but this one in his late 50s or 60s, wearing a Navy cap. He looked sloppy and I vaguely remembered either seeing him yesterday, when I was waiting for the 1/2 game to open. I didn’t play with him because a second game opened, but I got the impression that he was loose from watching a couple of dozen hands.

“Raise to $150.” It folded to me and I considered my options. At 1/2 NL, the same scenario would probably play out as a raise to $12 and a re-raise to $50, give or take. It’s not exact math, since the games play somewhat different. In that scenario, I probably would’ve folded, but I think playing 2/5 got me off of my game.

I never understood how so many pro’s stories go like this: “I was killing the x/y game, and when I got a big enough bankroll, I’d move up to the a/b game, but time and time again, the a/b game would bust me.” I always thought, “If you are so good at x/y and a/b is the same game but with higher blinds, what’s the big difference? Just play well.” But there is something to the mental element of moving up in stakes, even when the move is as small as 1/2 to 2/5. At least that’s how I felt after this hand.

I decided to call. I figured the $150 was a ploy to take down the pot immediately. I put him on AK or AQ most likely. The flop, then, was great: JJ4. He checked and I considered for a moment. “All-in.” WTF was I thinking?! Actually, I was thinking that he had AK or AQ. He didn’t. He had AA. He called and won the pot. He only had $345 total, so when the chips came, I took $55 and told the runner to bring the rest to my friend at the other end of the table. I also bought $300 more.

I actually did a good job of playing it off as though it were no big deal. I don’t ever want to appear broken at the table. People smell that shit like sharks to blood, and no good can come of it.

I was able to win a bit back, down $300 total when I was called to the 4/8 mixed game. Before that happened, the guy on my immediate right noticed my Buddha card cap. “Hey, I played with you yesterday. That was pretty funny how you were busting on Becks.” I guess Becks was the asshole. I was pretty surprised that he thought I got the best of it in the verbal altercation, since I’d assumed that most at the table were rooting for Becks as the home team. But I guess when you are a prick, it’s hard to make true friends. “How did Becks end up?” “I don’t know man, but he had a lot of chips when I left.” Well, I thought, he rebought a bunch too. Fuck him.

I should note that I was also keeping my head on a swivel to see if Becks showed up. I figured it could go two ways. We could laugh it off or we could get right back into it. Whatever the case, I wasn’t going to let the fucker sneak up on me, and if we were at the same table, I was willing to walk unless I had a good reason to stay put. Saying this, I kinda feel like a pussy, but it was just logic. I didn’t need him jawing in my ear and I really didn’t need it to get physical…and truth be told, he was a good, aggressive player when there were easier fish in the sea. As it turned out, this never became an issue anyway.

When they called 4/8 Mixed, and I got up from the table. “Leaving already?” one of my neighbors asked. “Yeah, you guys got enough of my cash. I came here for Omaha, so I might as well play it.” I wished them well and moved to my new table.

The 4/8 table was filled with geriatrics, aside from one big Samoan-looking dude. That didn’t mean, though, that they were any better behaved. The cussing started almost immediately, mostly from the two grandmas on my immediate right. I struck up some conversations with them and the old guy on my left by asking where I could get a good po’boy. After a while, we were all good buds, as they jokingly cursed the dealer and threatened to kill him if they didn’t win a pot.

I tried to join in the fun and threaten the dealers, but whereas it seemed charming from the two Southern grannies, it sounded a lot less ominous from me, admittedly intentionally so. It also worked for them a lot more, as they seemed to always win a hand or two after a threat. I, on the other hand, couldn’t get anything going.

I decided to play $200, and after several hours, I had nothing left. I suffered a bunch of river suckouts and none of my good hands held up or hit flops. It was one of those miserable card dead sessions, so much so that by the end, I was more interested in the Bluff magazine than the game. After my $200 was up, I got up and left the poker room.

This is me announcing once again my moratorium on table games. This is also me admitting to dusting off $200 in about 30 mins at craps at one of the coldest tables I had ever seen. Lesson re-learned (probably not for the last time). And that concluded my gambling for the day. I returned to the hotel to lick my wounds and meet up with wifey Kim.

Beck did show up, by the way, but he seemed to avoid me as much as I avoided him. At one point, he was seated a table away in a position where amazingly no heads blocked our view of each other. We were able to look right at each other as though we were on opposite sides of the same table. He didn’t stay there for long, though. I guess he didn’t like the view.

CMitch is in town, but now that wifey Kim is done with her conference, I doubt I’ll be able to meet up with him at the poker tables. I wish him luck, though, and look forward to reading about his experience.

So, $540+ on day one. -$500 in poker on day 2, with an additional -$200 on craps, which incidentally does not go on the poker ledger, but still is a loss, nonetheless.

New Orleans poker was pretty good, but I should’ve stayed with 1/2, my bread and butter. Or, I should’ve played 2/5 better. That’s something I will have to consider in the coming months.

Until next time, make mine poker!

“You don’t know who your fucking with, bro.”
It was true. I didn’t know who I was fucking with, bro. But neither did he.
I was at Harrahs New Orleans, and had been playing poker for at least 5 hours by the time this conversation happened. The speaker was a bald, goateed prick on my immediate right. He had joined the game about 2 hours before the heated exchange. And for the greater part of those 2 hours, he had been peppering his neverending jobber jabber with weak digs at me, with the apparent intent to get me off of my game. His main line was almost comical: “Look at these guys, playing tight.” He’d then point at me and say, “These guys only play pocket pairs and suited connectors.” In reality, I was literally playing any two face cards, any suited Ace, any pocket pair, and a slew of suited gappers. It was actually the right strategy to play, because there were a couple of absurd donators at the table. I had used them to open up a 300 profit, but I had already given most of it back by the time the bald douche sat down.
The jibber jabber wasn’t tilting me, but I was tired of being the target of his commentary. He knew at least 3-4 people at the table and his constant shit talking was getting old.
I tried every trick in the book, but was having little results. First, I joked. “Yep. That’s me. Super tight.”
A little later, I tried a different tact. “Haha. You are wasting your time, man. You are not going to get me off of my game.” I figured this was a polite way of calming him, but no such luck.
I tried another move, opening and closing my hand in pantomime like a moving mouth. “yap yap yap. Do you ever shut up? It’s just yap yap yap. No bite.”
Finally, I started to have some fun back at him. He kept saying that you couldn’t make money playing super tight, so I pointed out the obvious: “I took five or six pots from you already. I don’t remember losing any chips to you.” He barked back, “Yeah. You are up 62$ in the last 2 hours.” I was actually up over 200 in that span. I cut off a stack of my chips: “I might only be up 62 but this part of my stack is from you.” I cut off some chips from another stack. “and this is from you,” and I cut from my third stack, “and this is from you.” It was mostly true too.
It kept coming, so I finally started doing it back. He contemplated a call in a big hand before folding. I chimed in, “How can you fold there? You are too tight.”
That’s when he, “You don’t know who your fucking with, bro.” He was livid and his words were intended as a thinly veiled threat. I’m not idiot, but I’m also not one to back down. I knew that he had more friends in the room than I did, but this was a poker room. If it got physical, I expected it to be over in a matter of seconds. And frankly, even though he probably had me on size, I’m willing to get scrappy and I know where to hit to hurt. Of course, I never expected it to come to that, but I was ready if it did. Not one to simply shut up and take it, I fired back: “And you don’t know who the fuck you are dealing with. You can dish it but you can’t take it? ”
“Shut the fuck up,” he barked back. I couldn’t help myself. “Hey man, you started it. You’ve been jawing off for two hours. I say one thing and you lose it? Don’t tilt, man. Don’t just start giving away your money. I was fine playing poker and taking your money the old fashioned way. I don’t need you to tilt.”
“You don’t even know who you’re fucking talking to.” There it was again. “I don’t give a fuck who I’m talking to. If you want to play poker, then play poker. If you want to talk shit, then you better be able to handle it.” I copied his Creole accent, which came out much thicker when he got angry. “Oh, you play so tight! You only play suited connectors and pocket pairs! You’re a fucking joke.” The rest of the table was clearly vacillating between an uncomfortable laugh and waiting for a fracas.
I then turned away as the next hand was dealt.

By this point, I had enough. I didn’t have to listen to some Creole fuck threatening me. I considered packing up and walking with my 200+ profit, but the table was too soft to leave. That, and I only had a few hands before I was the big blind. I would have been happy to just fold, but on the very next hand after our verbal scuffle, I was dealt 99. I probably misplayed it by limping in EP, but ironically, this saved me a lot of money, when I folded postflop, when 77 flopped his set. Go figure.
The very next hand, though, was a whopper:
I held AKo in utg+1 and the bald douche was utg. He opened for 15$. I considered raising, but this was a
push-heavy table and to be frank, I didn’t way to lose a monster pot to the bald douches. Maybe he did get me off of my game.
There were maybe 4 players or more to the K86 flop, with 2 spades. He bet out 50 and I flat called. Everyone else folded. I intentionally never looked back at him. I just played the hand, knowing that he would bet for me.
The turn was an offsuit ten. He bet 75 and I paused, considering a raise before just flat calling. I didn’t put him on the flush draw, but I was mildly concerned of a set.
The river was a 6. He bet 75 again. If I were to raise, I’d also have to be willing to call an all-in, and since he and I were two big stacks, I didn’t want that sorta exposure, especially since I only had about 45 mins left to play before picking up wifey Kim at her conference. I called.
He announced two pair. I thought I was beat with my TPTK, but I didn’t trust this prick, so before mucking, I insisted, “If you got it, show it.” He did: KJ. I tabled my AKo. “Sorry, man. I wouldn’t do that on purpose. I didn’t think of the pair on the board.”
“It’s alright man. I know you’re not an asshole. You’re a douche bag. I can tell a douchebag a mile away.”
I sat there for a moment and considered my options. I won a nice pot from him and if I continued to play, I couldn’t see a better ending. I could’ve potentially won more, but I only had a short window and the heated confrontations were taking its toll. Plus, I was about to be the big blind again.
I stood up and started racking up. Across the table, one of the other locals, a morbidly obese guy, chimed in: “Hey man, don’t let him run you off.” I replied, “I’m not going to sit here and listen to anymore of his bullshit. I’ve got his money, and that’s what I came for. Besides, I got better things to do.” I then walked off.
I made a weird path to the cage, since I didn’t know its location, but that was probably a good strategy, in case the prick was going to follow me. I cashed out up $540, which was a good take. I then walked over to the convention center to meet wifey Kim. As I walked, every few minutes, I’d look back to make sure I wasn’t being followed. I’m too fucking smart to get jumped.
I returned to the poker room the next day, but we’ll save that for another post. I will add this, though. It was not quite as successful as the first day. In fact, it was pretty dreadful. But, that’s poker.
Until next time, make mine poker!

*For those of you who read this any time before November 20, 2009, I have added some details to this section. I originally wrote this post on my iPod while waiting for wifey Kim at the convention center and then finished it off in the hotel room. I left out this key confrontation, so I added it in after the fact, including some of the final verbal confrontation and the 99 v. 77 hand. My bad. Enjoy!

Hello from beautiful New Orleans. Wifey Kim and I caught a 7am flight, and we’ve spent the day walking around the city and getting our bearings. Of course, that meant a brief detour through Harrah’s to check out the casino and the poker room. Even though it was about 11am on a Wednesday, the poker room looked pretty busy, with a decent waitlist going for 1/2 and 2/5 NL and an interest list for LHE/LO mixed. I won’t be able to play until tomorrow, when wifey Kim starts her first program at the Speech-Hearing confernence at about 11am. That’ll keep her busy through about 5pm, giving me 6 uninterrupted hours of live poker…with more to come on Friday if wifey Kim finds any other programs worth attending.

Last night, though, was a real trip. I got home a little later than usual because I was trying to get everything in order at work before I took my vacation. By the time I was home, wifey Kim was still hours from returning from her monthly Tuesday dinner date with her girlfriends, so I decided to fire up a tournament. I looked at the offerings and decided last minute to forego PokerStars $22 PLO8 tournament in favor of the 6-max $22 NLHE tournament with a $2k Guarantee. There were about 180 players in the event and it was already in late registration, so I signed up. By the time registration closed, there were around 380 players. Go figure.

Of course, with my trip scheduled for the next morning and wifey Kim galavanting around town, I probably shouldn’t have been playing at all. I should’ve been cleaning the apartment, because nothing is worse than returning from a vacation only to find a mess. So, I multitasked. I took out the garbage during one of the synchronized breaks. I emptied the clean dishwasher and filled it anew with the few dirty dishes in the sink. I took apart our drycleaning and put my half away, leaving wifey Kim’s clothes by her closet. And I played poker. As best I could, anyway.

I cannot remember the last time I was so card dead. I must not have seen a card higher than 9 for the first half hour. It was incredibly frustrating, because my table was full of the loosest donks I’d seen in a while.  Players were raising from the CO with Q3o and then playing random flops like they had the nuts. Of course, I did a foolish thing. I started to get too antsy and took a couple of stabs at pots, both building them pre-flop and continuation betting post-flop, when the opportunity arose. This was a complete and utter disaster. At first, I was getting folds, but the blinds were still too low to really care. But eventually the loose dousches stopped folding and began to play back at me. When you have such little regard for your opponents, its not easy to give them credit for hands, but I found some solace in one of the only useful pieces of advice I got from the Tao of Poker (the book, not Pauly’s gonzo blog): Sometimes, when it feels like a guy cannot possibly have it because he’s been too loose/aggressive, he just may be on a string of lucky cards. You can try to fight it by playing back at him, but this could just lead to destruction. The wiser path is to accept that it is just not your time and to wait for the flow of variance to return in your favor.

And that’s what I did, eventually. First, I dusted off more than half of my 3k starting stack, hitting a low point at about 1,210. While that sucked, it was much better than the alternative, busting out early with no chance of recovery.

Eventually, I was able to put aside the other things distracting me and get down to business. With about 90 players left, I was in the 20s or 30s, until I hit a major hand that catapulted me to the top of the leaderboard. I help AQ and after open raising, faced a re-raise all-in from a push monkey and a call by the player next to him. I was still relatively new at the table and had yet to get a read on the caller, but even after cycling through about four different tables, I noticed a remarkable trend: it wasn’t just my first table that sucked; the tournament was full of donks.

I’d really be interested in other people’s perspective on this, so I invite comments on the subject. Is PokerStars filled with worse players than FullTilt? I had surmised this in the past, but I hadn’t played at Stars for months, if not a year plus, until the recent stint, and the difference in play was amazingly stark. Stars was full of fish!

I made the call, only to see that the pushmonkey had JT and the other caller had JJ. I was gripping the throw pillow and saying a prayer in my head that went something like this, “PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE!” And it worked. The turn was a Queen and I practically tripled up, catapulting myself into the top ten in chips.

From there, I continued to accumulate, using the advantage gained from having a huge stack. The big stack benefit was only magnified by the short-handed tables, and I was able to continue to gather chips.

After the bubble broke at around 36 people, the action picked up again. I was in solid 12th place or so, but at around 28 people, lost a pretty large pot when I walked into the nuts. I held JT and called a raise, since the raises were very liberal and I was having success betting people off of pots. There was one other caller and we saw a flop of AJT. I figured I was in great shape, but it turned out that I was in third place. The original raiser had KQ for the nuts, and the other caller had AT for a better two-pair. I check called a flop bet, and then check-raised all-in on the turn, since both players had less than a min-raise left behind them. Alas, my hard work from earlier had paid off. I still had about 5k even after that disasterous hand, and had dropped to the bottom 10 players in the tournament.

Nothing to do but get back to work. I fought my way back, stealing pots when I could and maximizing made hands where appropriate. The blinds and antes were starting to soar, so once I got into a stealing rhythm, it didn’t take long to work up to 8k, then 10k, and so on. From here, a lot of the details alude me, but by the time we were down to two tables, I had reclaimed my spot near the top of the leaderboard. It’s weird seeing over 200k chips in ones stack, starting from 3k. But it was that good kinda weird.

At the final table, everything was moving well until we were down to three-handed. By then, it was almost 1am. At about 12am, I started getting nervous. I needed to get some sleep before the 4:30am wake-up necessary to catch my morning flight. In fact, when wifey Kim went to bed, she asked, “Are you even going to sleep tonight?” I gave her an incredulous look that was shorthand for, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll be done in time to get enough sleep.” But by midnight, I was doubting my words. That caused a tad of anxiety, but like most things in poker, I just needed to compartmentalize and focus on playing well.

Three-handed went on for a long while with a lot of parity. Eventually, we each had similar stack sizes, but I found myself as the shortstack. I made my final exit with AQ. I called a raise, expecting to trap with my AQ. I flopped the Ace on an AKx board. I check-called. Then check-called the turn. And finally made my play on the river, check-pushing all-in. My opponents’ ranges were still crap, so I felt I was ahead, but feelings don’t count in poker. He had AK, and I was out in 3rd place for prize money north of $750. Not bad on a $22 investment, which incidentally constituted 1/2 of my Stars bankroll.

Not one to keep significant money online, I have already cashed out $500. I figured it was especially prudent since the UIGEA enforcement deadline is Dec. 1. I don’t expect much to happen, but I don’t like that gamble.

The $500 withdrawal counts as a win toward my yearly goal. I consider any deposit online an instant loss and any withdrawal an instant win to keep myself honest. I don’t track game to game online; just deposits and withdrawals. It makes life a tad easier and after all, I’m really a live player who dabbles online.

The $500 win puts me over my annual goal. That’s pretty sweet, although that won’t change anything about Harrah’s New Orleans tomorrow and Friday, or my play in Vegas or AC in December. What a fantastic poker schedule!

Until next time, make mine poker!

I went to Tuna Club last night to play in their advertised 1/2 PLO game. It’s rare when one can find live PLO in the NE United States, and I was downright giddy with anticipation.

After work, I headed downtown to the club. I stopped on the way at a new burger place that opened nearby and took my food to-go, hoping that I would not arrive to a full table and a waitlist. It was still early, about 6:45 or so, but the room was running a promotion, 10% of your buy-in back for the first 5 people to arrive before 6:15. I figured at the very least, it would bring in enough players to get the game off.

Imagine my heartbreaking surprise, then, when I arrived to see that the room was practically empty. There were four staff members and one player waiting around. As I entered, I mentally thought to myself that I would wait it out for a little while, but if the game did not start within a reasonable amount of time, I was out of there. After all, I had other fish to fry.

While I was at Tuna Club, wifey Kim was packing for our New Orleans trip, scheduled for Wednesday through Sunday. She had plans with the girls tonight (Tuesday), requiring that she pack a bit early. I had spoken to her earlier in the evening and she already sounded stressed. But we had already discussed the PLO game and she understood that it was a rare game to be spread. Frankly, I could’ve told her it was the weekly NLHE game and it would’ve been okay. God bless wifey Kim; she never limits me.

Now, faced with sitting around for probable hours hoping for a game to start versus helping my wife, poker was drawing slim.

In the meanwhile, the five people waiting around (including staff) were setting up a turbo SNG for $10 a head, merely to pass time. I jumped in and it was a lot of fun, since chips stacks were intentionally short. There was a lot of shenanigens and less than optimal poker, more so from my opponents, but even though I played fairly well, I went out in the two games, first to a two outter and then to a cointoss when the blinds were uber high.

As fun as it was, after the second game, it was a little past 8pm, and I decided that I had enough. I said my goodbyes and then suddenly some of the table perked up. “Why are you leaving so soon?” I explained my situation and made it clear that it looked like the PLO game wouldn’t be happening. The table then seemed to scramble for me to stay. I think they offered another SNG and I said no. One of the dealers then suggested that we start some NLHE. Others goading me into playing and I asked the stakes. I was told their usual: 2/5. “I don’t usually play 2/5.” Someone then quickly offered, “1/2 them?” By this time, there was one additional player, but I assume that some of the dealers would play NLHE, whereas they would pass on the PLO.

But here’s the thing: I was there for the PLO. If I wanted to play NLHE, I could come to the room any night. But I wanted to try out the rarely-spread game. Sadly, I guess I chose the wrong night (as did the club) since there were some major tournaments going on in AC and/or the Connecticut Indian Casinos that cut into their player base. But that didn’t change my attitude. I was there for the PLO and NLHE, especially on their terms, would not do.

“Okay, I see what’s going on here. Am I that big of a fish that you guys will bend over backwards to start a game around me!” It was a joke, obviously, and the group laughed. I insisted on leaving, said my goodbyes and hit the road.

In 24 hours, I’ll be in New Orleans. While wifey Kim will be at her conference courses, I’ll be at Harrah’s N.O., playing poker. All other times, I’ll be enjoying the Big Easy and all it has to offer.

As we get closer and closer, my other poker trips are at the forefront of my mind. Vegas for the Blogger Gathering is, naturally, first and foremost. God damn, I love me some poker!

Until next time, make mine poker!

A couple of hours after posting You Decide #71, I received a slew of emails informing me of comments. I must’ve missed a few, because it turns out that the second commentor got the answer correct, even though I said somewhere around comment #10 that no one hit it. My bad.

Without further adieu, congratulations to Poker Meister, who correctly answered that my opponent had KQ.

As you may recall, preflop, my opponent, UTG, raised 5x the BB (100) with his KQ and I called in position with J9s. He flopped an OESD on the JT3, two heart board, and bet 200, 30 less than the pot. I felt it was a continuation bet, and it turned out I was right. I called.

The turn was an 8, giving me a straight draw, and he bet 320, which now was slightly more than 1/2 the 630 pot. At the time, I was worried he may’ve been milking me with the small bet, but another part of me felt that it could’ve been a bet to control the hand (i.e., if he checks, then I will definitely bet and he loses control and has to fold; if he bets, I’m likely to just fold or call, so he gets to set his price to see the river). In hindsight, its clear that my opponent was trying to push me out or get a cheap river card, and I gave it to him. I called.

The river was a Queen, completely my Q-high straight. My opponent, having hit top pair on the river after stringing me along, pushes. This was a god aweful play by him, as he was only going to get called by a hand that beat him. It did, however, cause me a bit of concern that I let him get there on the river with AK. I was correct, in one sense, that I let him get there on the river. It just turned out that where he got wasn’t good enough, since I also hit my straight.

If I had to choose one mistake in the hand, it was really on the turn. I could’ve raised there and took down a nice pot, or conversely, been re-raised and know where I stood. Instead, I let my opponent control the hand and I didn’t do enough to extract information.

Congrats to Poker Meister for his accurate read. PM, hit me up with an email (highonpokr AT yahoo DOT com) or leave a comment with your email or your PokerStars screenname.

Thanks for playing!

Until next time, make mine poker!

The new HighOnPoker.com comes with one of those nifty hand converter options. All I have to do is copy and paste the hand history into the blog and it’ll pop out a pretty display with a rundown of the action.

Of course, I have always found raw hand histories to be terribly boring, and even with the converter, I find it to be a bit bland, but at least I can use the program to make pretty little card pictures!

This hand is from a 6-max SNG last night. I decided to follow someone’s advice (can’t remember who, but it was a commentor) and try some volume. I basically played four 6-max SNGs at once, starting them one after another with some time in between so I wouldn’t face four HU situations at once. At it turned out, I only cashed in one, taking second place after a long HU battle that saw my opponent hit 3-outters to escape death on 3 occasions. The other three games resulted in losses due at least in part to bad play. Once again, I let distraction take over.

I had a particularly tough decision to make in this upcoming hand. I had my full starting stack of 1500 and we were in the first level, 10/20 blinds. CPT was UTG, with 1430. I was in the cutoff. CPT raised to 100 preflop and I flat called with J 9 in position. It was definitely a loose call, but I felt confident in my ability to play in position. His preflop raise 5x the BB made me believe that he probably had a weak pocket pair or unpaired high cards. As long as he didn’t have KJ or AJ, I was in decent shape against those hands, so I decided it was worth the call in position. Everyone else folded.

The flop was J 3 T, with a pot of 230. CPT continuation bet 200 and I took my time before calling. The 200 somewhat scared me. I thought to myself that if I hit a strong hand in his position, what would I do? The answer I came up with was to bet slightly less than pot to keep my story going that I was making a typical c-bet. Of course, I also considered the possibility that I was overthinking the hand and that his c-bet was actually the mindless c-bet it first appeared to be.

The turn was 8, with a 630 pot. Not my opponent changed tactics, betting 320, significantly less than pot. There were still two possibilities. He was milking me with a winning hand or he was trying to control the bet size. I wasn’t 100% confident in my top pair, mediocre kicker, but the 8 brought me a straight draw. I called once again, happy to not have to put in all my chips.

The river hit me, Q, giving me a Q-high straight. The pot was over 1200. My opponent pushed all-in for 920 and once again, I was stuck with a tough decision. I had painted myself into a corner. For some reason, AK came flooding into my head. AK! AK! HE HAS AK! It made sense, too. The preflop bet of 5x so he could take down the pot without having to flop a pair (but then again, it was 30 pot). The c-bet on the flop. The weaker c-bet on the turn. AK! I took my time and tried to determine if I did, in fact, need to fold and save my remaining 900 or so chips. And finally, I made a knee jerk decision and called.

Anyone want to guess what he had? The correct answer gets $11 transfered to their PokerStars account. Suits don’t matter.

And while you are at it, feel free to comment on the hand, from preflop play to the end. I don’t love how I played it, so I’m more than happy to receive constructive criticism.

One final disclaimer: I often post my bad hands, because I see no use in posting hands where I played perfectly. There is little to be learned from those hands, and lots to be learned from these questionable ones. I just ask that you be gentle, kind readers.

Until next time, make mine poker!

*** WARNING: NO POKER CONTENT ***

I was at Court last morning at a conference. The conference went nowhere, since the defendants are refusing to give me certain records that I am legally entitled to receive.  Since I was staring down an end date for discovery (the time in which the parties can seek information from each other before certifying the case ready for trial), I had no choice but to make a motion to the Court asking that they extend the time for discovery and order the defendants to give me my records. This, in turn, meant that at the conference, nothing could be done, since the motion was still pending.

The most frustrating aspect, though, was when I was idly chatting with the two defense attorneys. Neither were the primary attorneys on the case, so they are not fully aware of the facts and history of the litigation. Regardless, during some idle chit-chat, one of the attorneys complained about having to come to Court again. I replied, “If you’d just settle with me, this case would be resolved and you wouldn’t have to show up for anything.” The other defense counsel replied in an almost condescending tone, “Counselor, you know that you’ll get your money, but in the meanwhile, we have to make ours.”

What did that statement mean? It meant that even though I was obviously going to win my case, the defense counsels did not want to settle early because this would cause their law firms money. It’s goddamn criminal.

This is why insurance rates are so high, including medical malpractice insurance rates. The mismanagement of litigation to the benefit of defense counsel is disgusting. In fact, the whole legal system is largely disgusting due to con men legal practices, where the client is an afterthought and profits are the number one priority.

Let’s just use a simple example in personal injury. Polly the Plaintiff was hit by a car while crossing the street at a crosswalk, breaking both of her legs. It is obvious to all parties that Polly was not at fault, and that Dickhead the Defendant was. Polly sues Dickhead and Dickhead’s insurance company, Incompetent Insurance, hires the Loser & Loser law firm, usually at a low hourly rate since the insurance company has lots of cases and therefore firms like L&L are willing to take lesser rates for ensured volume.  The case is assigned to Angie the Associate.  She gets her bonuses and/or gets to keep her job depending on whether she bills a certain number of hours per year. It’s a slow year for Angie, due in large part to the economy or perhaps because Loser & Loser does such a poor job that they don’t have many clients or cases for her to bill. Even though everyone knows that Dickhead is going to pay Polly eventually, Angie works up the case like a madwoman, fighting minutiae, getting multiple adjournments (so she can bill for each appearance, even though they are created by her), and arguing BS points. She is merely seeking her hours so that she can earn her bonus and Loser & Loser can bill Incompetent Insurance. On Incompetent Insurance’s side, there is an Izzie the Insurance Adjuster, who is overworked and overwhelmed. She relies on Angie’s memos that suggest that the case is worth fighting. Or she simply doesn’t even think about the Polly v. Dickhead case because she has other cases to worry about that are near trial, when the pressure is really on.

The result? Angie continues to bill for useless work, and then eventually Incompetent Insurance settles anyway, after paying thousands of dollars in additional legal fees. If anyone in that process would just do the honest thing, analyze the case, and perform a risk-benefit analysis, the case could have settled months, if not years, earlier. But that is not our system.

That is what is occurring in my present case. The defendants are stalling so they can charge more money to their insurance carriers. The BS stall tactics are institutionalized and encouraged with the bonus system or pressure placed on attorneys at L&L. L&L, in turn, benefits from these dishonest practices. Incompetent Insurance is wasting money left and right on every case, and then, when their books show that they are losing money, they don’t complain about their own incompetence or the wasteful actions of the attorneys they hired and let run wild; they complain that there are too many frivolous lawsuits and huge verdicts. They then point to the McDonald’s case as an example, even though the $2 Million + verdict in that case was reduced to several hundred thousand (and incidentally, the $2 Million + figure represented one day of McDonald’s coffee sales and was intended to put pressure on McDonalds to stop serving scalding hot coffee since they had ignored other warnings and prior injuries).

Online poker is rigged? The law is rigged, my friends. The system is built on a house of lies.

Until next time, make mine poker!

Man, I am running out of “Tuna Titles”. If you’ve been following along a HoP, you are probably aware that I have been trouncing the tournaments at the local underground poker room, putting up four wins in a row (wins = cashes, although three out of four were chops where I took the top spot), followed by two losses. Overall, I am way over .500 at the Tuna tourneys, and tonight, I continued to add to my positive results.

I decided to play poker this afternoon when I realized wifey Kim had dinner plans. Tuesday is the $130 buyin (including fees and the $10 dealer toke/add-on), with a structure that is faster than my bread and butter Sunday $160 Tuna tournament.

Since I hadn’t planned to play until this afternoon, I was at a preparatory disadvantage. Usually, I’ll pack comfortable clothes, essentially my poker uniform: a t-shirt (usually my $uperman shirt or my High on Poker shirt), a hoodie, cargo pants, a cap and sunglasses, along with two Buddha statue card caps and my iPod. Fortunately, I stilll had my most important items, my sunglasses and iPod. The sunglasses keep me focused. Most people think they are to hide tells, but in reality, it’s to allow me to look around at players without letting them know I am watching them. But even moreso, it’s because when I wear my sunglasses, I play better. I think the darkness is a visual reminder to pay attention.

After work, I hopped in the subway and headed to 8th Avenue, allowing myself a one avenue walk to the poker room. On the way, I stopped at Boston Market for a quick bite, which I ate at the room while I waited for the game to start. I was early, as always, and eventually got into a conversation with Dre, one of the dealers. Dre is a skinny black kid. I say kid, but I have no idea how old he is. He comes off as relatively young, but he clearly has a mind for the game and he plays higher limits than I do. I was still wearing my suit and he asked about my outfit. He’s seen me often enough to know my M.O. As we chatted, I explained that a great part of it was image. I want to look like the degenerate. He said that I would be better off with the suit because it looks like I have money to burn. That’s a valid point, but the question is what are we trying to get from our opponents. The degenerate look says, “loser.” And that’s good, because I want my opponents to pay me off.  The suit look says “success,” which is more likely to get people to fold. I want to optimize my big hands. It’s just how I play. So, I dress the part.

The second reason why I wear my poker outfit is that its comfortable. And really, that trumps all other reasons. (Bonus third reason: I don’t have to think about what I’m going to wear. I stole that move from Einstein.)

The tourney started on two mostly full tables. I had a pretty good lineup. The best player of the bunch was on my immediate right and I knew enough about the tendency of the other players to be happy with the group. In the first orbit, I was dealt JJ and when it checked to me in EP, I bet 200 with blinds of 25/50. I got a MP caller followed by a call by the BB, a chick who goes by the name of Dawn (but not IHO Dawn.)

The flop was J98. Dawn bet out 400 and I called. The turn was a blank. Dawn bet out 600 and I raised to 2600. That was a large raise, perhaps too large, because once she pushed all-in, I had to call, given the pot odds, even though I feared I was behind. She showed QT for the flopped straight. I then rivered a 9 for the full house. This 10-outter (three 9s, three 8s, three of the blank turn, and one Jack) put me in great position, so I sat back and let the magic happen.

I chipped up some more with good cards that I was able to maximize, and was probably around 22k (4.5k starting stack), when I played my worst hand of the tournament. Preflop, I raised with AJh and was called by an Israeli guy who wouldn’t stop yapping, akin to what I normally do, except more annoying. Or, um, actually just exactly what I normally do, but since I wasn’t the one doing it, it was more annoying to me. I played along with it mostly. He was playing crap cards and calling reraise pushes with crap like KJ, so I didn’t fear him much.

The flop was QQ2. I checked and he bet 1200, which was probably 2/3 pot. I called because I felt he was weak and I thought I was ahead. The turn was another low card. I checked and he bet 1200 again. If he bet higher, I’d've believed him and folded, but at that price, I was still thinking that it was worth a call. I felt my A or J would be good if they paired and I still wasn’t 100% sure that he had anything worth betting. The price was cheap enough to keep me in.

The river was another 2. I checked and he bet 1200. He only had maybe 2000 left behind. I flat called and he showed 33. He was good. I looked like a fool.

I followed that up a little while later with one of the best plays (and ballsiest plays) I have ever made.

I was in the BB, which was 400, I think, and held 84h. We were shorthanded,  6 players, as we played down to the final table. On the button, an old, fat, sloppy guy called. I wish I could be kinder, but that’s the perfect description of this guy. Old (late 50s at best, probably mid 60s), fat (250+ on a 5’7″ frame), and sloppy (disheveled appearance). He had already gone through two buy-ins, and I had watched him play really poorly throughout the evening. In fact, when he made his last rebuy, the blinds were so high that it was a complete sucker’s bet, and anyone willing to do that is clearly not in the right frame of mind to win.

So, preflop, the Sloppy Guy min raises to 800 from the button. He had done this earlier, and this time, I decided to call with my 84h because I had the chips and I was confident I could read this mess. I also knew he did not have a premium hand based on his raise, so I could potentially outflop him too.

The flop was A82 with two spades. That was actually a pretty good flop for me, especially when I saw the reaction of my Sloppy opponent. I have to emphasize that this isn’t some obvious tell; it’s just demeanor. I checked and he made a continuation bet of 1200. I remember thinking that this was another obvious sign, based on his previous betting patterns. He didn’t have the Ace; at best he had an underpair, at worst he had missed the flop entirely with maybe K-high or less. I called.

The turn was another Ace. Sloppy had about 3,000 behind, and I saw that he was getting ready to push them all-in. There was only one problem…I was first to act. And this is where I got ballsy. Knowing that mere moments before, my opponent was indicating a push, I decided to beat him to the punch, announcing, “All-in!” Remember, I had him mightily outchipped, and I had a feeling he was trying to push me out of the pot. Essentially, I was betting that he did not have an Ace. Even KK in that position would be scared, since I called a min bet pre-flop, called a c-bet post-flop, and pushed when the Ace on the flop was paired on the turn, clearly indicating that I had a baby Ace. If you want, you can add to the story the fact that I was pushing after there was every indication that my opponent would call, so clearly I had a strong hand.

My Sloppy opponent pulled back his chips, which were incidentally still behind his cards in-motion to going all-in when I beat him to the punch. He mulled it over for a bit and I made sure not to do anything to tip him off to my ruse. That meant that I couldn’t just lock up and go into tell-hiding mode, since that is a tell in and of itself. Instead, I just kept along with whatever conversation was going at the time. My opponent eventually folded and I showed for flair. Sometimes, it’s important for your opponents to know that you have their number…or that you are an all-in donkey. Either way, I liked the results.

By the time we were down to the final table, I was probably the chip leader, but blinds were going up quickly, and I lost a huge portion of my stack to the new chipleader, a player named Ali who had spent the first table at my immediate left. I thought I had a read on the guy, and when he pushed a turn, I figured him for a flush draw. Alas, he actually had turned trips after flopping third pair to my second pair. That put me in a tight spot, but thankfully, I still had enough chips to be competitive.

After every bust-out, the Isreali from my first table would say, “9-way chop?” or “8 way chop?” By the time he said, “5-way chop?” the stacks had evened out. I had about 22k, he had about 22k, there was one guy with a shorter stack of about 12k, and two guys with large stacks of about 30k and 40k. To my amazement, the 40k guy agreed, and once that fell into place, some quick math was done and we all agreed to chop it up 5-ways for $500 each, a $370 profit.

I was happy to chop, given the blinds (800/1600, about to go up to 1200/2400), but I really need to find a good opportunity to play one of these tournaments to the end. That isn’t my #1 goal. My #1 goal is to make money, and on that account, I succeeded. But next time I am in this situation where I feel I have enough of an advantage to take first place, I really want to play it out. This just wasn’t that time. I was getting a good price, we were about to devolve into a push-fest (hell, we were already there), and there were enough players left that hitting first or even second was hardly a given. Oh, and it was relatively early. I can’t complain about that.

As it turns out, I am now $6 away from my 2009 Goal, which is an exciting thing in and of itself. If i can earn $6 more profit by the end of the year, it’ll be my fourth success in five attempts, having failed last year to earn as much as I would’ve liked.

Next year’s goal will be an interesting one, especially if I really can find more time for higher buy-in live tournaments. But that’s a discussion for another post.

Oh, and if all goes well, you are reading this from my new site, HighOnPoker.com, utilizing the old feed. Go me!

Until next time make mine poker!

Sorry folks. Nothing to see here.