High On Poker

Let me first start by mentioning that I began writing this post from the middle, starting with the hands I recorded on audio notes. Sometimes, I question the purpose of this blog, but as I listened to my notes and transcribed what I heard (later editing it to something actually readable), I was reminded of the #1 benefit of these posts: they cause me to process my poker play when away from the table.

By listening, writing, reviewing and editing my poker hands, I am forced to relive them and I have found things, even in the first half of the hands I discuss in this post, that I didn’t even remember today. Writing these posts help me to remind myself of the specifics and replay the hands in a way that will hopefully stick with me moreso than when I just rely on my own memory. It also gives me a chance to really look at my accumulated decisions.

As far as poker studying goes, I really can’t think of a better way to study for a guy like me.

So, this story starts off with a SNAFU. Wifey Kim and I were traveling to Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love, for a speech-hearing conference and poker. While wifey Kim would be learning about advancement in communication devices, I would be learning about advancement in NorthEast poker at one of the two new poker rooms near Philadelphia, Harrah’s Chester Casino south of the city or Parx Casino north of the city.

The SNAFU involved our hotel. Apparently, I had canceled the hotel on one website when I found a better rate on another. The only problem was that the better rate was for a similarly named hotel of the same brand, and it was a distance from wifey Kim’s classes. Fortunately, I was able to rearrange things via phone while wifey Kim (who had a headstart Friday and drove down by rental car) waited in the hotel lobby. Unfortunately, the room rates had gone up, so we opted to stay just Friday night.

Friday night, I met up with wifey Kim and some friends in an Italian restaurant. I had arrived in the city at 8pm by train, and the group had already eaten, but was kind enough to order me something while I made my way to join them. Long story short, my meal was inedible and was eventually comped, after which, I went in search of some real food. I found it at Whiskey Village, a bar/restaurant by Chef Jose Garces, one of the recent winners of The Next Iron Chef. The burger was delicious and the duck fat fries were great as well.

The next morning, wifey Kim was up early for class. I woke around 9am to get my day started with a decent egg sandwich from the Reading Market, a big indoor market with 80+ vendors selling a variety of items. I also grabbed a turkey sandwich from a deli for lunch, after hearing that the food options at the casinos were not great.

I had originally decided to go to the Harrah’s Chester Casino, since it had been open for longer, but I had received a tip from a reader, Irish John, that Parx was better run. I decided to follow his advice, and arrived at Parx at approximately 10:45, having left the City Center about 30 minutes prior. 30 minutes to poker is not bad for a commute from the center of the city.

The casino itself looked grand from the nondescript road. As I drove closer, I could see the second building in the distance, set back from the main one. Where the main one looked like a welcoming, well-designed casino, the second building looked like a warehouse with a PARX sign. Whatever!

I had already received word from Irish John that the second building housed the poker room, so I knew exactly where to go. Once inside, I took a long escalator to the second floor, where the poker room was located.

There was a front desk so I made my way and began to chat with the cute blonde Parx employee. She explained that I did not need a comp card, but I opted to get one anyway, which required me speaking to a less attractive woman. LEMON! With card in hand, I returned to my blonde friend, who instructed me to my 1/2 NLHE table.

Before I headed there, I went to the cage with $400. I purchased $200 in reds ($5 chips) and $200 in blacks ($100 chips). I did this because I had read online that Parx uses chip runners. I figured if I needed to rebuy or reload $100, I’d rather reach into my pocket for a $100 chip, rather than wait for a runner.

My table was full of a nondescript group of males and one female, who looked and played like she was mentally handicapped.

I started the session down about $200 within the first hour due to two hands, both against the same guy. My nemesis was a middle-aged Asian guy, large and bulky, like a Samoan. He was wearing small sunglasses and had a nerdy demeanor. In my two hands, I had foolishly bet into his turned nut full house and his turned royal flush. Yes, folks, a royal flush, which made my representation of the nut flush look pretty foolish. Fortunately, in both hands, I didn’t have to expose my cards. In the first one, I called my nemesis’ river bet thinking that he was weak, based on his betting pattern. I had a decent hand with an unexpected second-pair (KJxKQ, and I had Q9). I figured that he probably had the Jack only, but I was obviously wrong. In the other hand, I bet the river only to be raised all-in. I folded, since the board was scary. Obviously, the hand I was trying to represent no longer mattered; the push let me know my opponent was ahead, so I folded…and then he proudly showed his royal flush (is it weird that I feel Royal Flush should be capitalized out of respect?).

I made some of my money back drawing to a flush. I was in one of the blind with K6h when I saw a Q-high flop with two hearts. My audio notes for this hand are pretty weak. I can hear the frustration in my voice because I could not remember the exact action. However, I know that I turned an inside straight draw as well and then rivered the K-high flush. I only had one other player in the pot, and to my surprise, he raised my river bet. I thought long and hard about the possibility that my opponent had the Ace-high flush, but I made the call only to learn that he had the Q-high flush.

A lot of the players at the table were action players. Others (one in particular) were straight up donkeys. Regardless, the result was that you could expect to be called down in most hands. I realized that this game would be about hand selection. Get good hands and get paid off. But it was also about making sure you were in the game to make opportunities arise.

I decided to limp in a hand with 22, hoping to hit a set. Sets would be very profitable at this table, based on the players. Truthfully, Iw as set farming all day, so this was not exactly my first attempt. But as set farming goes, when its time to reap the harvest, it is usually a bountiful haul.

With my 22, I saw a flop of 238, rainbow. An Asian player, in his 20s with a fairly thick accent, glasses, and spiked up hair, bet $12 on the flop. A truly awful player in a gray hoody called and I called as well. I figured I was in great shape and safe from most cards that may come on the turn.

The turn was a King. The Asian player checked. The Gray Hoody bet all-in. I think it was for something in the $45-65 range. I called and the Asian folded. Gray Hoody had a King with a shitty kicker. I took down the pot and started to reverse my losing ways.

I should mention for a moment that at the end of the hand, my opponent didn’t expose his cards. He just announced, “I have a King.” I waited and then said, “No offense, but I paid the fare, so I want to take the whole ride. Let’s see them.” I hate asking for a player to expose his hand, but I knew as soon as I showed 22, he was going to muck, and I wanted to see what this guy was willing to limp with preflop and call with postflop. He showed his cards before I showed mine and that was the end of it. I cannot stress this enough, though; if you want full value in a situation like this, you HAVE TO insist on seeing your opponent’s cards before you show. It is information you paid for, so if you just let it slide, you are practically giving away money.

The Gray Hoody became a central figure for the rest of my day. The guy was a 20-something or early 30s Caucasian, with brown-ish hair with a red tinge that he wore short. He also had a beard and mustache of the same length. He was overweight, fat, really, but not obese. He wore sunglasses with rectangular frames and a gray hoody that I had already mentioned. Earlier in the day, the hood was down, but as the day wore on, Gray Hoody wore his hood like he was some sort of poor-man’s supervillain. I, naturally, was wearing my $uperman shirt, so I would be playing the role of hero, liberating those oppressed chips under the Gray Hood’s command.

But first, I had to lose more chips. I was finally dealt a premium hand, TT, and raised preflop to $14. I got 4 callers, and we saw a J73 flop with two diamonds. I figured that it was fairly likely that no one had a Jack, so I bet 35$. I was raised to $95 immediately and knew I had to fold. And that’s how I lost another $50.

I had a break from the losing when I got a visit from Irish John. He was in the room to play and stopped by to say hello. My inconspicuous $uperman t-shirt paid off, having tipped him off before hand that he should look for me in my usual attire. I was losing at the time, but still in decent spirits, having learned to accept the ups and downs of poker. John was winning as was his friend whose name I’ve since forgotten, mostly because I have the memory of a field mouse. My bad. Another great thing about poker and this blog. It seems like no matter where I go, there are likeminded people around. And a lot of degenerates. Some likeminded degenerates, come to think of it.

I had started my day at 10:45am or so, and three hours later, I was basically still treading water. I was largely card dead, and I tried to remind myself to simply wait for the cards to come to me. Still, I couldn’t help myself, which had put me into a hole early. I had leveled off for the most part since then, having resigned myself to folding .

It was right around then that I noticed that my stomach was growling something fierce. I eventually took a quick run to the car to grab my turkey sandwich, only to learn that I had left it at the hotel. LEMON! By this time in the game, the 3seat and I had worked up something of a silent camaraderie. The Gray Hood had sucked out on him something fierce, and a few hands later, when I was up against the Hood, the 3seat leaned in and muttered, “Bust that fuck.” The 3seat was an Irish kid, probably in his mid-20s, with slightly Asian eyes. He was clean shaven with a ball cap and had a square jaw. He looked probably 6′, with a slender build. He looked like he knew what he was doing, and I was glad to have the friendly atmosphere. I always recommend befriending your neighbors.

I had heard Irish Three Seat speak to a cocktail waitress about food, so I asked him the verdict. He explained, “You can’t eat at the table, but you can order and eat at the bar.” We were at one of the furthest tables in the poker room, but that didn’t mean we were in the back of the room. Behind us, there was a huge area, complete with about 6 covered poker tables in a row along one side, with a large circular bar taking up the rest of the space. The bar was apparently a smoking zone, so players got up from time to time to smoke, probably 20′ from our table. Still, the smoke wasn’t an issue to me. It was mostly light when noticeable at all.

As for the food, I opted to pass. I just couldn’t bear to get up from my seat and miss the action. Besides, poker is one of the few activities where I don’t really “feel” hunger, for the most part. I mean, I noticed I was hungry, but it was almost an aside.

Maybe the walk to the car was good for me, because when I got back, the tide of cards had begun to flow my way. A little after 2pm, my patience was awarded with Big Slick (AKo) on the button. When i first sat down, I was in the 10seat. The 8seat was a fat Italian-looking fellow, wearing a Nike sweatshirt. He was probably in his 50s, with graying dark nappy hair, and the physique of Tony Soprano. He was chatting with a guy in the 9seat who looked like Renee from True Blood. For those who don’t understand the reference, figure a Cajun, scraggly-haired, goateed serial killer. And thanks to the miracles of the Internet, you can just look at his picture.

Renee was not really the point of the story. Frankly, the two guys were a couple of pricks. I didn’ get a good vibe from them, and I didn’t like my seat, since the tables were small and the dealers had a habit of leaning forward, blocking my view of the 1seat and 2seat. I moved to the 2seat when it opened up.

So, Niko (the Italian with the Nike sweater), raised to $15 and had about 5 callers, myself included with AKo on the button. The flop was K36, rainbow, and it checked to me. I bet $25 and got two callers, the Gray Hood and Niko. The turn was a Q, so when it checked to me, I bet $50. I was somewhat concerned that I was facing KQ, but when only the Hood called, I felt a bit better. That donk was just as likely to have K5.

The river was a blank and I bet $50 again. Finally, the Hood caught on and folded. I took down the pot and was now up about $15-25.

I took a small dip, falling below my starting stack before getting involved in two back-to-back big hands. In the first, I limped with Q9o. The Hood (the Joker to my Batman, based on the amount of attention he gets in this adventure) raised to $9 and there were a bunch of callers. I called as well.

The flop was 973, with two clubs. I had a club as well. The Gray Hood bet $20, and a newer player on my immediate right called. The new player was an overweight Russian-looking guy, in his late 40s. He was friendly to me and even mentioned how he may have accidentally folded a rivered flush against me in an earlier hand (I also had a flush, but he suggested that he was ahead). He had forgotten his glasses, supposedly, and I took him at his word, mostly because he was friendly and he began showing me his cards as the day wore on (only when I was out of the hand).

After the Russian called, I decided to make a play, raising the pot to $80. I already figured that the Russian knew how to fold and since we were friends, he would not assume I was just trying to steal the pot. The Hood called and the Russian folded, as expected.

The turn was a blank and I open pushed for $160. Hood took his time, but eventually folded. This was a classic situation of playing the player. I am not 100% sure I wouldn’t minded a call there. He was certainly willing and able to call for less, based on his prior play at the table. He also had my $160 covered, so he may’ve even been willing to call light. But when it was all said and done, I wanted him to fold, and it was a relief when he finally tossed his cards.

I received KK sometime in the same orbit. It may’ve even been the next hand. I decided to raise preflop to $22, because it was clear I was getting action. I had lost a lot of my stack earlier in the evening raising preflop to $12 or $14. I’d get 4 callers or more, which indicated that the group was either very loose or just thought I was easy money. I think one guy in particular thought I was a mark, Niko. I had seen him muttering to Renee during the game and even with the Gray Hood, when the Gray Hood took Renee’s seat after Renee busted. It didn’t much bother me. In the end, I want some people to underestimate me. Niko was the perfect personality for that scenario. He was older, more experienced, probably had a decent bankroll, and he was filled with smug self-righteousness. That’s my gimmick.

But seriously folks, it is not unlike the guy who I dubbed Fat Mess from this post about a day trip to AC. In both cases, the guys thought that they were so great and made it so clear what they thought of me, that I knew exactly what to expect from them.

But that’s just an aside. With this all in mind, when the action got to me with KK, I decided to raise to $22. I figured it would get me heads up with the Gray Hood; keep in mind, he had yet to act, but I could count on the Gray Hood to call just about all of my preflop bets.

What I didn’t expect was that Niko would come along for the ride. Fair enough. And the flop…

AA6. (sad horn sound). I was out of position on both players, so I decided to check, figuring that it was fairly likely I was facing an Ace. It checked around and we saw a harmless turn. It checked around a second time. On the river, I decided to bet $50. I was less scared of the Ace now, seeing as how I didn’t think either of the players had the self-restraint to check both the flop and turn with an Ace. I half expected two folds, but I also figured that I might get a call with a lesser pocket pair or perhaps a player who paired the board. Even if one of these guys had the Ace, they would surely raise and at least I’d know that I did not just surrender the pot to an easy position river bluff from Niko. As it turned out, I got one customer, the Gray Hood. I showed my cards and he mucked.

At 4 o’clock, I finally saw the vowels I was looking for, AA, as in aah, this should be easy. So, I made it hard on myself, sorta. I limped in EP. To be fair to the Gray Hood, he wasn’t always a donkey. Not that I could see at least. When I first sat down, he seemed to have his head about him. But he suffered some early beats, and he began to play every hand. And like some supervillainous monster, as the day wore on, he got worse, switching from bad calls to bad and frequent raises. He was seemingly raising with any two in all different denominations.

So, with AA, I figured I was good for a check. Someone would raise the pot and then I could make my play to get it heads up, hopefully against the Gray Hood.  As it turned out, a local kid decided to raise it up to $7. The guy was a Caucasian with dark hair, with a tough Italian look. He wore a cream knit hoody with a Polo logo on the front, with a wife beater underneath. He was probably in his late 20s. By the time it got around to me, his $7 bet was called in three places. I raised it to $57. I figured I’d take the pot, which had already grown to $28, or get maybe one player to commit their entire stack. I sure as shit didn’t want to be going against 5 players with a guy like Gray Hood who is inducing wild calls. In a situation like that, every flop is a dangerous flop.

Fortunately, only Polo called and we saw a flop, QQ9, with two spades. I checked and he bet $60. I considered for a moment before pushing all-in. After all, I was trying to induce a bet, and while he could have a Q, he just as well could have A9 or TT. He took his time as I tried to look timid. Then he called. I don’t even remember the turn or river. Once the hand was dealt, I tabled my hand immediately. I don’t play the stall game. He mucked. Sweet!

After the hand, there was some discussion at the end of the table where the Gray Hood now sat next to Niko. Someone, I think Niko, yelled across to me that the Gray Hood had a Queen, and I was lucky that Polo called, because otherwise, the Gray Hood would’ve called. I didn’t argue. I just said, “Really? Wow, I did get lucky!”

A couple of minutes later, I bumped heads with that donkey the Gray Hood again. This time, the Gray Hood, in the 2seat, open raised from early position all-in for $25. He was finally running low on cash, hence his seat change. It must’ve been the seat. The Russian on my right called, but I had already learned that he played ridiculous cards too. He was showing me his cards in every hand where I folded, and he would stay in with utter unwinnable crap. (Incidentally, I hate it when I see two players sharing cards, but no one said a word about his showing, and I wasn’t going to be rude and refuse to look).

I peaked down to my cards to see 44. Hardly a top ten hand. But it was just $25, the Gray Hood and the Russian. The Russian and I were buddy buddy, so I figured I could get him to fold with a large enough raise. Now I needed to just fend off the other wolves. I looked to my left and no one looked particularly dangerous. I raised to $125, using a $100 chip for emphasis. It folded around to the Russian, who folded. I got heads up with the Gray Hood getting 2:1 with 44. The flop was KJ9. The turn was a 7. The river was a 6. Five overs. I tabled my 44, thinking I was the last aggressor (although in hindsight, I suppose I was not). The dick just said, “Wait, what do I need to win?” I kid you not. “Anything on the board will do,” I replied. All the while, he was flicking his cards together. Finally, he flipped one up, an Ace of diamonds. Then he flipped the other, a 7 of diamonds. The dick slowrolled me.

I have to give myself some credit. I didn’t really care. It was annoying, mostly that I lost the pot, but I wasn’t upset about the loss. He was easy pickings, and I had only put $25 into the pot. In fact, I played the hand perfectly, got the exact situation I wanted, and then simply lost the 50/50 chance to triple my money.

In the final hand for this LOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG post, I get my vengeance. Not long after the A7d slowroll, I was dealt Js8c on the button. When the action got to the Gray Hood, he raised it to $7. I decided to call because I was on the button and I had no faith in Gray Hood’s skillz. The spiky-haired Asian player also called from one of the blinds. The flop was J63, all clubs. The action checked to the Gray Hood, who pushed all-in for $57. I called and the other player folded. The turn was a blank and the river was a 9c. At showdown, I waited while he tabled 77 with a club. My pair of Jacks was ahead, and the 8c saved me from being counterfeited by a four-flush. But I never would’ve been playing Js8c if it wasn’t for the Gray Hood’s prior asshattery. He finally got a good hand and this time he was married to it, even though he created conditions where other players were going to call him light. He did it to himself. Well, I had a little something to do with it.

All in all, I walked away up $268. It isn’t a huge sum, but it represents probably a $500 swing, since I had to reach into my pocket for both of my $100 backup chips.

The poker room was nice, the play was terrible, and the action was plentiful.

After the poker, I changed my entire outfit in my rental car in the parking lot. I had to meet Kim and her friends for a nice dinner, and I was glad to get out of my poker gear. Dinner was easy and the drive home went quick at 80 mph. Parx made a believer out of me.

Until next time, make mine poker!