Crazy month. Two more cashes for a total of over $1000 paid to me in May.
First cash -
The aforementioned single table home game at Eric's house last Tuesday night panned out beautifully for me - mostly because I was invited, but also because I was the chip leader at the end and got a nice chop for $200 +$15 in bounties ($225 was the full 1st place prize).
I played well, stealing and bluffing just enough to not only stay ahead of the blinds but to accumulate through all stages of the very well structured and genuine 6 hour deep stack.
Eric runs a great weekly game and his garage always has good guys in it.
I would say I am one of the stronger players, but my edge isn't super big - and every time I play there I know my EV will drop just a bit as they get used to me and are adjusting each time I show up. But thankfully there are a couple of clueless exceptions who are stations and spewers of the highest order that will hopefully keep the game pretty juicy for a long time to come.
Eric, the host, is not one of these chip fountains. He is a solid player who has cashed in the WSOP and a super cool guy who has a great and open approach to hosting and playing that is infectious and fun. One of the things I really look forward to at his game, and even participate in sometimes, is the exchange of information and strategy talk.
I know, I know - why would I ever do that? Well I've talked about it before on this blog, but the short of it is - in my mind, at a home game full of friends, even more important than "making money" (which is kind of silly anyway when you're talking about bar tab stakes, and cheap bar tab stakes at that) is having fun. And the table talk at Eric's game, the genuine and sincere dissections of hands immediately after they unfold, is pure pleasure. Plus I really believe that what little info is divulged, even sometimes more than a little, has minimal impact or influence on the softer players in the game anyway. And even if it didn't, I'd still indulge. I actually get a lot out of it - not so much the thought process of my "opponents" but rather it gets me thinking about hands and optimal or different lines to take with them.
Eric's partner in crime, who helps him organize the game, is Matt, who is also one of the better players and is even more of a strategy chatter box. In fact, he's probably the grand champion - which is actually a pretty wonderful thing. I learn from him, and Eric, and I really get a big enjoyment buzz that makes the evening more than worthwhile, even the ties when at the end I am stuck $55.
On any given night both of these guys can be better than me, and the third player I'd put in that category in Eric's garage is my old poker pal Mixer. He and I have been talking poker for years, so it's a great fit. Last week Matt was chuckling at the banter between us, thinking there was some kind of rivalry - I guess in a way there is; whenever you have two players that respect each other greatly, there is a natural tendency to do your best and use every weapon at your disposal, knowing that even if you come up short you'll be glad it was against both a worthy adversary and a friend.
Last Tuesday though there was very little skill on my part on Mixer's final hand as I coolered him in sick fashion when we were on the bubble - I bet first UTG, my standard 2.5x, I had kings. Mixer looked down and casually tossed in his bounty chip - he was all in with queens and I called super quick and fast rolled my cowboys.
Not sure if I would open shove as he did, but truthfully I don't mind his line - as I recall we were both around 30-40 bigs, and with an eye on a first place finish there's not much maneuvering room post flop. If the board comes low all the monies are going in anyway - I don't think I'm ever finding a fold in that situation if he pulls the trigger on a board that doesn't have an ace on it. Not to mention that Mixer's play is for sure profitable, if I fold (as I would with any steal) that's almost 5 not insignificant big blinds. If I have a strong hand like JJ, 1010, 99, 88, AQ or AJ I'm probably calling and I'm for sure calling with with AK. He's only worried about two hands which, odds are, pretty slim that I have. For the record, I'm never folding QQ pre-flop on the bubble in a 6 hour $55 home tournament.
Later I cracked third place finisher Nick's aces in a disgusting manner when my open shove of QJ (me with 125K and him with about 20K) ran into his bullets. Running queens on the turn and river, gross. Still, correct decision on my part but got unlucky and then massively lucky. Poker is a nasty ass bitch sometimes.
And that brings me to my thoughts and concerns about Eric. He has been in a long dry spell, bereft of cashes for the last few months and I couldn't help overhear the other night after the tournament was over that he is likely to take a break for the rest of the year if he doesn't cash soon.
This makes me sad and I wish there was something I could say to get him to see the really big picture, that tournament poker is so heavily influenced by variance that even the best in the world go through long (and I mean long) fruitless stretches.
Daniel Negraneau, who despite being a bit of a douche nozzle at times, is no doubt one of the very best tournament specialists the game has to offer. He played in 33 events in last years WSOP. He cashed twice. One min cash and a deepish run in the Main. In the end he was stuck over half a million bucks. That is a hell of a lot of poker to play to come out so far behind. And this is a guy who plays the game as a full time occupation and also has natural gifts in reading people that most of us will never have.
Eric plays every other week in his house with people he knows very well, but they also know him very well too. As I said above, in time, my edge in his game will get smaller and smaller - I'd like to think it won't vanish, but at a certain point I would not be surprised whatsoever if I went a dozen or two dozen tournaments in that garage without getting a nickel. It's simply inevitable, even for the trickiest of players, that when you face the same guys over and over and over, they are going to mostly know what you are up to. Throw in a hefty dollop of bad luck, and it's not surprising at all that the bankroll takes a hit.
However, all that info really is meaningless to someone who has slipped into the dark pit of despair of poker. I've been on the brink several times in my amateur career - where premium cards seem to evaporate quicker than spit on a skillet and any move that you make seems to backfire every single time. But like that weekend warrior golfer who sucks all day but then hits a superb drive on the 15th hole and then long puts a birdie, I always manage to find a gem of a bluff or maneuver to keep me coming back for more.
And in that little glimmer of hope, amongst all the shit when I go without cashing for long stretches, I still find the fun in the game. If Eric can't find the fun, then a break is probably the best thing. But I really think the rest of the year is too drastic.
I routinely take mini-breaks (say two or even three weeks) and usually find when I return that I'm more psyched than ever to be playing. I think that if Eric stops his game for a month or so he'll probably be jonesing really hard to get back into it and quick.
Second Cash -
After a great weekend with the fam, I was granted a hall pass late Sunday afternoon to gambool it up at the Bike.
The new tournaments that they are offering, called "Quantum-Reload" are intriguing. I didn't quite grasp it from the literature, but what it basically boils down to is a single tournament with a two flight or tiered entry system; if you bust in flight A you can only re-enter in flight B.
Flight A (levels 1 & 2 blinds at 25/50 and 50/100 respectively) is $70 (including a rebuy) for 10K in chips and flight B is $115 (including a rebuy) for 14K in chips (levels 3&4 blinds at 75/150 and 100/200).
So it's a bit weird, but it's a 10K guarantee.
You can't buy more chips if you use your rebuy in flight A and don't bust, so I found myself unable to get more ammo when I was around 6K going into flight B, I chipped up a little bit and was sitting on roughly 50 bigs when the second break and the end of re-entries hit, FOUR HOURS after the tournament started.
Yes, that's not a typo. The first four levels are 55 minutes! Yikes! Afterwards, the entire tournament reverts to the typical lowstakes MTT formula of turbo-ish structure and 20 minute levels. They do it this way, I think, to give people plenty of chances to bust, re-enter, re-buy, etc. and build up the prize pool. With well over 250 runners, they easily met this number.
The result of having such a deep structure to start, is that you get a lot of hands early on and a lot of chances to speculate. Recreational players, me included, do appreciate that it gives a LOT of play value - you will get to see a ton of hands for a very low price point. I could see where a regular or semi-pro might want to avoid this one as there is a better than good chance that you can play for 8 hours and fall short of the money. Also, I'm probably never going to play one of these on a school night ever again.
Anyway, so there I was around 50 bigs after the four hour quantum-reload thing ended. But backing up just a scotch - for the first 3 hours of the 4, I found myself slipping very easily into passive and speculative poker. This was easy to do because everyone at the table was limping, with nary an aggressor to be found. Occasionally someone would three bet, but always too small and typically with a big hand.
It was cool for awhile to limp along and hope to smash some flops, but after awhile it became apparent that this was a very spewy proposition. It's one thing to occasionally flat with a small pocket pair to set mine or a suited ace to fish for flushes, but I found myself taking it further (because there was no immediate incentive not to) and really stretching the definition of the word "speculate".
Q3 sooted. 910 off suit. J8. Blech. What was I doing? It was only after about 3 hours when I realized, just how bad the players around me were, calling with hands like these and even worse, when I kind of snapped out of it and started raising. Raising large with multiple limpers, raising the sb when he limped, just raising in general instead of passively pissing chips away.
It worked. People laid their hands down time and time again - even grousing that this used to be a "friendly" table. Again, I had discovered that it truly pays to shift gears into a mode that is opposite of what the table is doing.
Like I said, I was doing okay when the re-load phase ended.
A ditzy, super skinny and blinged out 35something idiot (who happened to be African American and embodied many of the unfortunate stereotypes thereof) whom I've played with before, had the whole table on tilt (including me I'm afraid) from her incessant non-poker related chatter (including graphic sex talk, but not the good kind - the PC horseshit condoms = health care and should be provided to 7 year olds kind) and her endless slow play. If she remembered to put a blind or ante out on her own occasionally it was a shocking moment.
The news was on one of the television screens and I saw that the Lockerbie bomber had died, I mentioned to a nice lady on my left - and Ditz just had to chime in...
Her: "Who?" Me: "The Lockerbie Bomber"
"Who's that?"
"He was a terrorist who blew up a Pan Am jet in 1988, killed 270 people."
"Huh..." She said, dumbfounded. "And how do they know it was him?"
Really lady? Is it always the fault of the Po-Po? You moron. I didn't answer. She prattled on and on about "terrorists, so called..." even ending up saying that he didn't look like such a bad guy. Awesome.
Anyway, she busted in a multi-way hand with the worst of it the entire way and then got really incredulous "I knew you didn't have nothing."
Okay sweetie, that guy should remember to fold the nuts more often.
Anyway, not sure the point of the story - other than I've played with this imbecile before and I'm sure I will again, and she always makes for an interesting test. She always puts the table on edge and truly alters the game for as long as she is around, which typically isn't very.
So really I shouldn't be passing such harsh judgement on a fellow traveler - it's kind of sad really. She has no clue or wherewithal about how the world at large is. She can only see as far as her neighborhood and the admittedly sad things that go on there. And the fact that she owns this ignorance with absolutely zero shame is what truly gets to me.
I need to step back and recognize how pathetic she is and pray that she somehow finds happiness and somehow grasps the concept that other people than her exist and have thoughts and feelings and experiences that can add to, rather than distract from her own life's journey.
I moved tables, then quickly was moved again.
I hovered around 20-30 bigs for several hours with no giant hands of note in my memory. I still had just enough to fire a 2.5x and then follow up with a c-bet just under half the pot. This worked often enough that I kept my head above water. Occasionally I would just shut it down on the flop, especially if there were multiple players calling behind.
Then I was moved once more and I dipped to around 15 bigs. No real room to maneuver much if at all.
Each table move had brought me to a more and more active group and this fourth bunch was the wildest yet. There were some monster stacks here and they were not shy about being aggressive.
Particularly impressive was a hand that had a big stack four bet shoving with rags, on a squeeze move that he showed with great relish after it had worked.
This same player though made other moves that to me seemed a bit spewey. I was ready for him.
On the big blind I defended his MP 2.5x raise with A8. I still had 15 bigs behind. Heads up, the flop came ragged with an ace. I checked, he c-bet large, I shoved, he was committed and called with bottom pair. Easy double up.
A few orbits later, back down to just under 20 bigs, a nice older fellow to my left defended my SB raise into his BB.
I had nothing, but he had been super tight so I took a stab. The flop came with a king and two hearts, the perfect board to fire a second barrel for half the pot. He considered for a bit and then flat called.
At 12 or so bigs it was time to shut it down or get him off his draw - he had me covered but not by much. The turn was a black 3. I shoved.
He quickly mucked. I had read him exactly right and I got a big rush of adrenaline. He was drawing and the turn was a massive blank. I had gained another 10 big blinds and had room to standard raise again.
But this didn't last. Eventually I was back down to 15. I occasionally would open shove if the timing was right and fortunately it always was, I stole the blinds and antes every 2nd or 3rd orbit as the number of players in the tournament dropped and dropped.
At some point the light bulb went off in my head. I had been moved again, to my fifth table, and looking around at the stacks, there were a few monsters, a few like me, and some really tiny ones. They were paying 27, and there were 35 players remaining.
As much as it pained me, the realization had struck that if I kept at open shoving I could easily go busto and have spent almost 8 hours playing with nothing to show for it. If instead, I shut it down for anything less than jacks to shove and anything at kings or better to call, I stood a very decent mathematical chance at squeaking into the money for $165.
If I played this game for a living, I wouldn't give a shit. As it was, I really wanted something to show for the full work day that I had put in.
Lockdown mode worked out well. Sure enough, the teeny stacks, and even a few medium and big ones fell by the wayside. I first in shoved queens once and got no callers, so my stack was around 12 bigs when we were down to 29 players.
A motion was made to take $330 from the $5600 first place prize and pay two extra players. Motion approved! We're in the money!
But wait...
There was an objection after all. One player wasn't having it.
Okay, that's certainly their right. A little odd considering it's such a small slice of a massive first place prize, which is nearly 50% of the price pool entire and will likely be chopped up anyway, but whatever, it's not the end of the world. It's also bad form and kind of a dick move, but who cares really.
Then I heard who the person was, and it was a name I recognized.
Barbara Enright, is a member of the poker hall of fame. She was put there primarily because she is the only woman to have ever made the final table of the Main Event. She also has two bracelets, including an open event - and she was the first woman to win one of those. Good for her. A results search on the Hendon Mob shows that she hasn't been doing that fantastic of late, binking teeny cashes in teeny events, but hey, she for sure deserves to be in the hall.
So okay, good for you. So here you are in a $70 tournament full of recreational players like me who work hard all week in 9-5 jobs just so we can go out and have some fun playing poker and donate to people like you. We play for 8 hours, the money is in sight and what do you say to that?
A big "fuck you fishy" apparently. You can't see that there might be a modicum of +EV to have two more amateurs happy that night? And that there might be a hell of a lot of -EV, both in the game and outside of it, for you when word gets out that you're a miserable bag of meat who delights in making other people miserable too?
Guess not.
Most ridiculous of all, she wasn't chip leader, or anywhere close to it for that matter. Roughly 60 bigs, which was pretty puny compared to the mountainous piles around her.
The entire room was abuzz with disgust at Ms. Entright's stubborn and apparently spiteful edict, which she had insisted on AFTER the official "you've made the money" announcement was made. I got an earful from the regulars at my table how "she does this shit all the time" and how "she's a miserable old bat" who thinks of no one but herself on and off the felt.
Okay, I'm convinced.
Really, the biggest strike against her as far as I'm concerned is that visible pros, especially ones in the freakin' Poker Hall of Fame, have a very real obligation to be ambassadors of the game.
Poker is indeed a brutal sport and often ruthless, but what makes it magnificent is the flashes of generosity and honor that flare up on occasion. I have witnessed this myself many times at the table - whether it's a group of Vegas regulars digging into their own pockets to pay the tourist bubble who just busted or a crusty old dealer misreading the board and a young internet kid politely correcting him so that HIS OPPONENT would rightfully get the pot - it DOES happen, and every time it does, a little bit, a tiny bit, of the stigma that the game still carries from the riverboat days when it was known as "the cheating game", washes away.
Then a first class douche nozzle like Barbara Enright comes along and takes a big dump on that goodwill, and recreational players like the fellow across from me who did indeed turn out to the bubble walk away discouraged and bitter.
Worst of all, the bigger point is, because of Miss Enright's short sightedness, we had to go hand for hand. I've never experienced this before, in my 7 years of live tournament play, simply because nobody, not even one of the biggest chip leaders I've ever seen who literally had half the chips in play in front of him, had the classlessness to insist on boning the bubble boy.
The guy who finally busted out 28th, the aforementioned fellow across from me, was eliminated in heart wrenching fashion. Forced to go all in blind, he flopped the wheel, and lost to a higher straight on the river!
Good job Barbara Enright, hope it was worth it. That guy ain't coming back and he's going to tell every single one of his friends and family what a raging cunt you are.
And some people might even blog about it.
Anyway, back to me. We redrew for the final three tables I was moved to Miss Enright's tables, but had no interest in saying anything to her or even acknowledging her presence. She for sure sensed this from around the table, but she truly did not give a massive fuck. I do admit I have a teeny bit of respect for that, but moreso, my compassion creeps in and I feel more than a twinge of sadness for a lifelong degenerate that is so empty inside.
19-27th place would only make $165, so I happily loosened up and shoved here and there, no callers, so I kept my head above water. Then I got queens! I shoved my 8 BB stack and got called very light by a mongo stack and my hand held for a nice double up.
Now I had a real shot to make a pay jump, and by the skin of my teeth I did, booking $245 for 18th place after my first in A6 from the button was called by the big blind with 57 and turned trip 5's.
It was 130 in the morning, but I was happy - happy to have lasted and (excluding a couple of lovely moments of genius on my part) mostly folded into the money.
Recreational player happy, Barbara Enright still miserable.
Speaking of miserable, one last dreadful story.
After the bubble had burst and I was at Enright's table, there were three monster stacks down at the opposite end. It was time to color up, removing the 500's and cutting down on the sheer volume of 1000's. With most of the players gone I watched the floor do their thing with the racks and the chips.
The 3 big ass stacks each had most of their 1K chips replaced with bright yellow 10K chips, the blinds were huge, and this would make it easier for them and for everyone. Standard. All rooms do this.
The owner of the biggest stack of all came back and immediately launched into a half serious/ half typical So Cal cardroom douche = humor rant about "The sickness you guys have with touching my chips". It was explained to him that TDA rules call for it and he bitched and moaned as if he was hilarious and all casino staff were idiots. Standard So. Cal jackass / bad stand-up comedian.
So a few hands go buy. A big stack to douche's right three bets an EP raise. Douche ships it. Original raiser folds, 3 better calls and fast rolls his rockets.
Douche turns up A10!
After AA dodges a suckout douche loses his shit. Not on AA, but on the TD!
All sorts of nasty names come out and before he knows it, he's on a full round penalty. He stalks off and rants and raves to his friends near by.
What. A. Moron.
It was going to take a lot to make Barbara Enright seem like a nice and normal person by comparison, but this guy did it.
Kudos to the TD for swiftly penalizing the dick hole and then following up with a stern threat of disqualification which actually silenced the douche as he stormed off in a huff.
A casino not taking shit from a regular is a rare thing in So Cal. If the Bike would do it more often they'd have a much nicer place to play. As of now, the lack of shit taking is the exception rather than the rule, and the inmates are pretty much running the asylum. Hollywood Park is a much more civilized place to play, and that's really saying something.
Anyway, really looking forward to a fun Friday night with with home game. Thanks to my run goot, my confidence is pretty high right now and that always helps me play better.
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