Somewhere along the line, in my ongoing poker journey, I learned a valuable lesson. Two valuable lessons actually.
Don't try to educate inferior players and don't tap the tank.
Speaking to the first lesson- I was the absolute worst offender. When I wasn't berating fish for shitty play, I was actually and sincerely trying to have a poker clinic at the table. Usually online, but occasionally live as well.
I wasn't just misguided - I was an idiot.
Why would I ever want a donkey to see the light and play "correctly" when clearly, playing poorly is big time +EV?
This problem stemmed from the second lesson - my anger at inferior players who sucked me out. I deluded myself into thinking that I was being a good person by channeling this anger into something constructive - helping a player.
Why would I ever want to help "fix" a potential human ATM? It seems really obvious now, but in my more naive poker playing days I actually believed it was a good thing to show a horrible player the errors of his ways.
Thankfully, I'm in a much healthier place today - when I can get beat with junk on the river and smile; knowing that I want that terrible call EVERY time.
Numbers don't lie, and I've more than doubled my buy-in this season, and I'm far and away the points leader as well. I attribute this to being DECISION oriented - and ignoring short term RESULTS.
Focusing on the immediate outcome of a hand is a recipe for a mental breakdown, and it's unfortunately afflicted one of my good friends in the league. Or perhaps I should say fortunately - his irrational tilt fueled tirades against the fish in the league (the aforementioned tapping of the tank) makes him play badly.
I tried briefly to convince him to not be results oriented, he completely didn't get it. I then realized, that though I'm fond of him as a person, I shouldn't be trying to educate him. I was falling into my old misguided habit, without even realizing it.
The next time he rants and raves at the utter futility of playing correctly against a card rack, I'll only be able to smile. It's what I want him to think. But the other side of the coin is, I hope he doesn't make the mega-fish uncomfortable.
I wish he, and a few others (both bad and decent players alike) would refrain from berating the uber-donks for the inevitable suck outs.
I fear that they will make the environment less than desirable for these juicy customers.
One player in particular is spectacularly bad, and she recently took down a tournament. I myself was ecstatic, now she really believes she is at least half way decent. Likewise, there is a veteran of 2 seasons in the group who is pretty much beyond terrible who took down the tournament last night. Again, I'm elated - it insures my long term profit. Others in the league seem hell bent on bitching, moaning, and complaining in e-mails.
Fellas, please, don't tap the tank.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Vega$ Baby!
I got a nasty head cold, plus there were other personal issues weighing on my mind that kept me from being on my A-game.
But I still cashed. Twice.
Thursday night we arrived at the delightfully smokey Orleans, and sat down to the only regularly spread Omaha/8 tournament in Vegas. It was only $80 and I played for 4 hours - great, great fun, though I busted out in 38th place out of 90.
Not sure what I could have done differently - I played fairly tight, but I had to see some flops to have a chance. Probably paid too much towards the end.
The next day other friends arrived and we played the $70 noon NLHE tournament at the Mirage.
It was quite frankly the softest live table I've ever been at. Passive doesn't even begin to describe it. Players would underbet the pot, and fold to undersized continuation bets at an alarming rate. Many, many limpers, all hoping to catch the flop and get lucky. My kind of group.
The one decent player in the bunch was on my right, and I took great pleasure in busting him - twice.
It wasn't a rebuy tournament, but there was a $20 add-on which I assume everyone had purchased (I certainly had). After he tried to steal my blind with KQ, I reraised him with AA. He thought and went all in. Insta-call. I had him covered.
But instead of leaving, he pulled out a $20 and bought his add-on. The only entrant in the entire tournament not to do so ahead of time. He then proceeded to double, then triple up from the generous donations of the fish around us.
I still had him covered though.
Once again, he was small blind and I was big. He raised. I looked down at AQ suited. It was a suspicious min-raise, he hadn't done anything so far in his second life other than push all in or fold.
Did he have a monster? Only one way to find out. All in. I would be damaged, but not crippled.
He tanked, FOREVER. It was a great relief as I knew in a worst case scenario we would be racing. Finally he talked himself into calling with AJ. Bye bye.
I then went on a bit of a heater that saw me running into big hands, as well as stealing with junk, because the table was terrified of me. I truly played small ball, getting people to lay down the best hands, and then sometimes pushing and busting them when I woke up with Aces, AK, and Queens.
When the dust settled and the final table convened, I was a 2 to 1 chip leader over the second place player.
Unfortunately the final table wasn't nearly as much of a pushover as my starting table. I got wittled down a bit, misplayed a hand or two - and wasn't patient enough to fold my way to the big money. Instead I kept trying to steal, and with the blinds pretty huge I found that even min-raises hurt my stack. I finally busted in 4th place with an ill advised J6 shove that got snap called by a J10 (by one of our group, a fast learning fellow named Potter).
Still, I did cash - $250 richer for 3 1/2 hours of effort. Not too shabby.
That night I felt like crap and busted out fairly early of the Treasure Island $60 10pm event.
The next day we hit the nooner at Mirage again (as nearly everyone who played in it from our group on Friday had made the money). This time it was more players, and better players as well. I was fairly card dead, and managed to not be focused enough to have a chance at cashing. I hit the rail about 2 hours in.
At this point I was euphoric about cashing at all - it was my goal all along (especially in light of my physical condition and other more important concerns) to simply cash once. I was also in a good mood, despite my cold and concerns.
I wasn't expecting to make the money in my last tournament, a $130 event at Caesars. It was the biggest buy-in and the best structure and largest field of the trip. It was also the most prestigious room that also happened to have the best players. Sven, one of the best players in our group, said that Caesars was an aquarium - but all of the fish must have been at his table, because mine was swimming with aggressive and skilled players.
Not that it really made a difference, I was pretty out of it (though having fun) and donked off my stack in under two hours.
So that was the end of my Vegas odyssey. I was down a little bit, but happy to have made the money at least once. I was looking forward to bed. Then my phone rang. It was Cali - he was about to sit down to the $65 Treasure Island tournament, could I make it over in time?
Here's where any rational person would have said "Are you kidding? "I'm sick, I can't wait to get back. Eat me."
But I'm not rational, I'm a poker degenerate.
So I dragged my (by now pretty smelly) ass over to T.I. and plopped down more bucks for another shot at a turbo tournament.
I was in no shape to play really, but I was happy to be there with my best buddy Cali - and happy to be fondling chips.
I busted out after only 20 minutes.
I overplayed my TPTK with a stupid shove that would only get called by a hand that could beat me, and it certainly did - running into a set. It wasn't the worst play in the world, I knew I was at a table of donkeys, plenty of guys who would call with TP lousy kicker. Still, I should have bet for value, even if I didn't plan to get away from it. I was just over eager to double up, and found myself on the rail. Finally, I could shower.
Or could I?
Someone mentioned that I could reregister. Another $65? Let's see, I'm in a good mood - but feel like crap, I'm not playing well, my lungs are burning. Hmmmm.... more poker? Or get a shower and good rest?
Easy question.
More punishment please!
I sat down again (with a slightly reduced stack for reregistering) at a different table - this one full of NASCAR rednecks and a couple of sharky locals. Great. I had to endure oafish humor, and a relentless maniac to my left who had a huge stack and a pretty good read on when to call and when to fold to the yokels.
I bore down just the same, and realized, that as long as I had chips (even a reduced re-register stack) I was alive and that there was no reason I couldn't succeed with good decisions and even partially decent cards.
The rubes across the table irritated me, and the big stack (though he was fairly skilled) also rubbed me the wrong way.
I was better than all of these douche bags.
Time and time again, I pushed all-in at the correct time. I doubled up. Tripled up.
All of the sudden the big stack couldn't just call me with any two. My raises had to be respected.
Before I knew it, it was final table time - this time with Nacl (the only one in the group who hadn't cashed yet) in attendance. I was happy to see that he did indeed make the money - barely holding on to finish sixth.
I, quite honestly, simply got lucky towards the end - first when my jacks held up in a multi-way pot and second when my AK beat out a medium pair to significantly increase my stack.
The gargantuan chip leader, the maniac who irritated me from my first (or rather second) table, looked around when a four way chop was proposed. His eyes settled on my now hefty stack, and he sighed.
The remaining prize pool was divided up evenly and the tournament was over. I was $550 richer, and technically took down first place! It was my first even chop - and the first time I was included in an even final split. Even though I was a bit behind on chips at the end, according to the leader board it was dead even at the end.
All in all, despite the circumstances of my health and my mental state - Vegas '09 was a huge success. I can't wait till next year, when hopefully my body and mind will be in better shape, and I can do some real damage to the tourists and cranky locals.
But I still cashed. Twice.
Thursday night we arrived at the delightfully smokey Orleans, and sat down to the only regularly spread Omaha/8 tournament in Vegas. It was only $80 and I played for 4 hours - great, great fun, though I busted out in 38th place out of 90.
Not sure what I could have done differently - I played fairly tight, but I had to see some flops to have a chance. Probably paid too much towards the end.
The next day other friends arrived and we played the $70 noon NLHE tournament at the Mirage.
It was quite frankly the softest live table I've ever been at. Passive doesn't even begin to describe it. Players would underbet the pot, and fold to undersized continuation bets at an alarming rate. Many, many limpers, all hoping to catch the flop and get lucky. My kind of group.
The one decent player in the bunch was on my right, and I took great pleasure in busting him - twice.
It wasn't a rebuy tournament, but there was a $20 add-on which I assume everyone had purchased (I certainly had). After he tried to steal my blind with KQ, I reraised him with AA. He thought and went all in. Insta-call. I had him covered.
But instead of leaving, he pulled out a $20 and bought his add-on. The only entrant in the entire tournament not to do so ahead of time. He then proceeded to double, then triple up from the generous donations of the fish around us.
I still had him covered though.
Once again, he was small blind and I was big. He raised. I looked down at AQ suited. It was a suspicious min-raise, he hadn't done anything so far in his second life other than push all in or fold.
Did he have a monster? Only one way to find out. All in. I would be damaged, but not crippled.
He tanked, FOREVER. It was a great relief as I knew in a worst case scenario we would be racing. Finally he talked himself into calling with AJ. Bye bye.
I then went on a bit of a heater that saw me running into big hands, as well as stealing with junk, because the table was terrified of me. I truly played small ball, getting people to lay down the best hands, and then sometimes pushing and busting them when I woke up with Aces, AK, and Queens.
When the dust settled and the final table convened, I was a 2 to 1 chip leader over the second place player.
Unfortunately the final table wasn't nearly as much of a pushover as my starting table. I got wittled down a bit, misplayed a hand or two - and wasn't patient enough to fold my way to the big money. Instead I kept trying to steal, and with the blinds pretty huge I found that even min-raises hurt my stack. I finally busted in 4th place with an ill advised J6 shove that got snap called by a J10 (by one of our group, a fast learning fellow named Potter).
Still, I did cash - $250 richer for 3 1/2 hours of effort. Not too shabby.
That night I felt like crap and busted out fairly early of the Treasure Island $60 10pm event.
The next day we hit the nooner at Mirage again (as nearly everyone who played in it from our group on Friday had made the money). This time it was more players, and better players as well. I was fairly card dead, and managed to not be focused enough to have a chance at cashing. I hit the rail about 2 hours in.
At this point I was euphoric about cashing at all - it was my goal all along (especially in light of my physical condition and other more important concerns) to simply cash once. I was also in a good mood, despite my cold and concerns.
I wasn't expecting to make the money in my last tournament, a $130 event at Caesars. It was the biggest buy-in and the best structure and largest field of the trip. It was also the most prestigious room that also happened to have the best players. Sven, one of the best players in our group, said that Caesars was an aquarium - but all of the fish must have been at his table, because mine was swimming with aggressive and skilled players.
Not that it really made a difference, I was pretty out of it (though having fun) and donked off my stack in under two hours.
So that was the end of my Vegas odyssey. I was down a little bit, but happy to have made the money at least once. I was looking forward to bed. Then my phone rang. It was Cali - he was about to sit down to the $65 Treasure Island tournament, could I make it over in time?
Here's where any rational person would have said "Are you kidding? "I'm sick, I can't wait to get back. Eat me."
But I'm not rational, I'm a poker degenerate.
So I dragged my (by now pretty smelly) ass over to T.I. and plopped down more bucks for another shot at a turbo tournament.
I was in no shape to play really, but I was happy to be there with my best buddy Cali - and happy to be fondling chips.
I busted out after only 20 minutes.
I overplayed my TPTK with a stupid shove that would only get called by a hand that could beat me, and it certainly did - running into a set. It wasn't the worst play in the world, I knew I was at a table of donkeys, plenty of guys who would call with TP lousy kicker. Still, I should have bet for value, even if I didn't plan to get away from it. I was just over eager to double up, and found myself on the rail. Finally, I could shower.
Or could I?
Someone mentioned that I could reregister. Another $65? Let's see, I'm in a good mood - but feel like crap, I'm not playing well, my lungs are burning. Hmmmm.... more poker? Or get a shower and good rest?
Easy question.
More punishment please!
I sat down again (with a slightly reduced stack for reregistering) at a different table - this one full of NASCAR rednecks and a couple of sharky locals. Great. I had to endure oafish humor, and a relentless maniac to my left who had a huge stack and a pretty good read on when to call and when to fold to the yokels.
I bore down just the same, and realized, that as long as I had chips (even a reduced re-register stack) I was alive and that there was no reason I couldn't succeed with good decisions and even partially decent cards.
The rubes across the table irritated me, and the big stack (though he was fairly skilled) also rubbed me the wrong way.
I was better than all of these douche bags.
Time and time again, I pushed all-in at the correct time. I doubled up. Tripled up.
All of the sudden the big stack couldn't just call me with any two. My raises had to be respected.
Before I knew it, it was final table time - this time with Nacl (the only one in the group who hadn't cashed yet) in attendance. I was happy to see that he did indeed make the money - barely holding on to finish sixth.
I, quite honestly, simply got lucky towards the end - first when my jacks held up in a multi-way pot and second when my AK beat out a medium pair to significantly increase my stack.
The gargantuan chip leader, the maniac who irritated me from my first (or rather second) table, looked around when a four way chop was proposed. His eyes settled on my now hefty stack, and he sighed.
The remaining prize pool was divided up evenly and the tournament was over. I was $550 richer, and technically took down first place! It was my first even chop - and the first time I was included in an even final split. Even though I was a bit behind on chips at the end, according to the leader board it was dead even at the end.
All in all, despite the circumstances of my health and my mental state - Vegas '09 was a huge success. I can't wait till next year, when hopefully my body and mind will be in better shape, and I can do some real damage to the tourists and cranky locals.
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