So you might have noticed the post below, where I go on and on about my waning interest in hosting elaborate poker tournaments in my garage, and my growing hunger for a more meaningful goal in the game of poker.
Well, that all has changed, yet again.
I have another blog, manzoniman.blogspot.com, that deals with personal stuff and also includes my views on politics. It's a much better outlet than Facebook for getting my opinions off my chest. But right now the most recent post deals with my personal vices, and first and foremost on that list is poker. I still very much love the game, but if you read the post, you'll see that I've finally recognized the unhealthy side of the game that has encroached into my life - thanks in no small part to a medication that I'm taking to deal with my weight issues.
The medication, it turns out is part anti-depressant and part anti-addiction medicine; and as I say on my personal blog, it has changed my perspective on poker, among other issues that I'm dealing with.
The good news is, I am now aware that sneaking off to play poker in southern California card rooms at every chance I'm given, is not a healthy choice. And I'm able to finally be honest with myself, that my priorities for the last five years or so, despite my rationalizations, have not been in the correct order.
Now, with this medication and this new perspective, it has kind of dawned on me that I need to lower poker on the list and make sure it stays firmly below family and work. I've always proclaimed righteously on this blog that this is so, but if I'm being totally honest now - there have been times when I have lied to myself and to you dear reader.
But as my white hot lust for this game has now finally cooled, I can truly and joyfully say - I have very little interest in playing poker as often as I can. I still have a love for the game, but it is now subdued deep in my brain and heart; my daughter, my wife and my livelihood (editing, directing) are now front and center as they should be, and this is a great thing.
******
But, as this is a poker blog, I would still like to very much on occasion, relay here what is going on with me and the game that I still love, though maybe I love it a bit less.
I had my physical on November 9, two days after a multi-table tournament in my garage. I started taking my weight loss medicine a few days later - and miraculously, I haven't played poker since until this last weekend. I know that's only just 4 weeks, but trust me, it's pretty much a miracle that I didn't find time in my garage or at another home game or at the Bike or Commerce in that stretch - I have played poker every other week at a minimum for the past 5 years, and this is my longest stretch without poker in a long, long time.
I feel good about this, and the only reason I played poker this last weekend is because I had scheduled this tournament months and months ago. It was my annual Tournament of Champions free roll in my garage. This year, if you follow pepperstreetpoker.com, you can see that I won three tournaments, so I had locked up my seat for the event plus another 10K in bonus chips.
Even better, there were only a few other players in the event who were going to make it tough on me. My oldest and bestest poker playing buddy Sven, and another regular from our game who is kind of a character and fairly outspoken at the table; we'll call him Jim. And finally, Janice, a good poker player who has been a regular at my game for years, who has a natural poker playing ability that would be basically unstoppable if she would ever emerge from her perpetual haze of marijuana.
Other than that, the remaining 6 players were all less experienced than I, and I felt pretty comfortable about going up against them. All friendly, great people that I am fond of - but as poker opponents, I was feeling great about doing battle.
I have long been a believer that the longer one goes without playing the game, the rustier he/she becomes. It is kind of like a bicycle, in that you don't actually forget how to do it, but it is also more like doing crossword puzzles, in that if you take a long hiatus, you don't slip back into a rhythm as quickly when you return.
Thankfully, as this was a large tournament for my garage (with $500 up top for 1st place) I found that I was very comfortable as the cards and chips started to fly.
One of the players, was unable to make it, so we started out 9 handed. The good news, the missing player was a fairly experienced fellow who though rock-ish, is capable of bluffing in the right spots and has had very good results in my garage.
For the first two hours, I played extremely tight, so much so that Jim couldn't help but remark that I wasn't my usual aggro self. But I knew two things that would keep me tight early on. One, that the structure was incredibly deep, with half hour levels - making risking my equity much less necessary. The average stack after 2 hours was still upwards of 80 big blinds.
Second, I had started the game with a 10K chip advantage - so there was really no point in trying to chip up early, as I had in effect already done so without playing a hand.
After 3 hours or so, after we'd had a couple of bust outs, I finally began to shift gears and get more involved. Specifically, I targeted the two players on my right, both of whom were very very inexperienced and both of whom had lucked into a lot of chips.
Because they were so green, I knew that neither of them were capable of bluffing beyond a weak lead out or small continuation bet - which made it very easy to get away if they showed strength. I also knew that they both hated to fold to aggression, especially from someone like me who has a pretty maniacal image in the game. This would make both of them very profitable in value bet situations.
The player on my immediate right, Billy, if I had to guess I would say that he has literally probably played less than 20 poker tournaments in his life. He is the sweetest dude, but he has a propensity to ship his entire stack out of the blue if he feels he has the best hand, with very little regard to what his opponent might have. In other words, he often will put 50 big blinds or more at risk with moves where only a weaker hand will always fold and only a stronger hand will call. A very unprofitable proposition.
And that was how he had gotten a mountain of chips early on. Against Janice he ripped all of his stack, nearly 100 big blinds, into the middle when the turn came a third heart and he held the nut flush. Janice tanked for quite awhile before making an absolutely horrific call with a set of jacks. She said out loud, "I don't think I'm capable of folding this" before she did. Janice, I feel you on that, I've often said the same thing out loud when I have a biggish hand, but in this instance - I really think that a less 'medicated' Janice could have found a fold.
This is especially true when I think back to another hand that she had with Billy in the tournament in the summer that she ended up winning. Billy turned a King high flush on the turn, and indeed shoved his entire stack, which was well over 100 big blinds and Janice had to double check her cards before calling with the ace high flush.
What did this tell us? That when Billy out of the blue puts his entire stack at risk, a big stack early on, he has either the nuts or very close to it. What could Janice's middle set beat in this instance? Not a flush, not a straight, not top set. Only 2 pair and top pair - which Billy would never jam with.
At any rate, Janice was crippled and shortly thereafter out - Billy now had effectively doubled up. As the third hour passed, I made it my mission to flat every one of his opening raises. Then he would either check or meekly c-bet the flop. If he checked I would simply bet, especially if there was an ace or a king and he would often fold. If he c-bet meekly I would flat and fire the turn if he checked. Sometimes he would bet tiny on the turn, and I would either flat planning to take it away on the river or simply raise him right then and there, which often worked.
I was however, cautious about getting to out of line with him. Like many inexperienced players, Billy has a tendency to be a disbeliever and feel like everyone is trying to bluff him. I used this propensity to great advantage a couple of times by absolutely value betting the shit out of him when the flop did hit my hand.
Once in a blue moon he would hit the flop hard, and when he did it was the easiest thing in the world to get away from, because all of the sudden his bet sizing would inflate to almost pot sized or even sometimes bigger than the pot. It was like he was literally playing with his cards face up.
This oversized bet tell also applied pre-flop, he would go from a 3x opening all the sudden to a 6x or larger - this meant he had a premium hand, either AK or QQ, JJ, 1010. And when he limped pre-flop, more than once this past year, this was a giant red flag that he might have aces.
At any rate - I believe Billy busted out in 5th, and then it was bubble time. The bulk of his stack unfortunately went over to Sharon on his right, the other less experienced player at the table. Sharon does have more experience than Billy, but her game still suffers from a lot of the same bet sizing tells and the same emotionally driven propensity to think that everyone is bluffing her.
Sharon, unlike Billy, will actually check if she blanks completely on the flop - or occasionally she will fire a small c-bet when she whiffs if she thinks she still probably has the best hand, like AK or some such.
Her pre-flop betting size tells are monstrous though, way bigger than Billy's. She will literally bet 10x with queens or jacks. She also increases her bet size with AK, which is not that common with other newer players.
We got tangled up in a big pot as the bubble approached, I knew very clearly in my mind where she was at when she led out at an A 9 x flop, and then followed up with another bet of the same exact size when another ace rolled off on the turn.
I called this bet and then started to murmer out loud after a blank river hit and she checked to me, "I know you don't have an ace, what do you have? Do you have a nine?" The normally talkative Sharon was mum. I replayed the hand in my head. I had led out from under the gun, 4 handed I think we were with Jd10d. She had defended her blind. She then led out on the A9x flop.
She leads out a lot, and I commented on this. "You're leading out again?" What does that mean I wondered - well my guess was that it meant she had hit the flop, either top or middle pair.
That she bet smallish on the ace on the turn, pretty much told me that it was very unlikely that she had an ace. She would have either checked or bet big there if the board had been wet. So then she had to have a 9 or a medium pair. I went with this and counted up my chips, all the while mumbling that 'your 9 is no good' and then shoved my whole stack, which at this point was about 2/3 of the bloated pot.
She tanked briefly, but I knew she couldn't call if my read was right. It would be a giant hit to her fairly large stack - she had enough chips behind to get away, and mercifully she did.
In hindsight, I'm glad my bluff worked out, but I think I made a mistake overall in mixing it up with her with very little equity in my starting cards after the flop. Sharon, and Billy, and others who are just starting out - have very little incentive to fold when they haven't played enough hands to learn that it's correct sometimes to get away from a hand that has hit the flop.
To be fair to Sharon, she probably has at least 2 or 3 times the experience Billy has, which is really the only reason my bluff worked.
As I dragged the pot, I made sure to show her and everyone else, that I had bluffed. Jim was aghast, and Sharon furrowed her brow looking for my strong hand that didn't exist. I had now planted it firmly in everyone's mind, the old Chris was now here and I could literally have any two cards in the hole.
Jim ended up bubbling. At one point it had looked like he was a sure thing to cash or even possibly win the whole thing with a big stack but he donated a lot of his chips to Sharon in a badly misplayed hand that he himself continued to lament out loud a good hour after it had occurred. I don't remember the specifics, but again, Sharon's bet sizing had given him all the information that he needed - that she was very strong, and he pretty much ignored it because he had flopped 2 pair or something similar.
So we were 3 handed, and the third player, James, a solid player but a bit on the tight side - had managed to squeak into the money with his short stack that eventually succumbed to Sharon's mountain.
As heads up started Sharon had a 3 to 1 chip advantage over me, but I still had almost 50 big blinds. There was a lot of poker left to play, and I knew this and didn't panic.
I min-raised every button for awhile, she almost never folded but frequently folded to my c-bets. In this way I was able to grind up in about a half hour to where our stacks were almost even.
Then a bunch of folks arrived for the 7pm cash game I had scheduled. Shortly after they got going at another table, I managed to lose a big chunk of my stack with a stupid bluff.
I was on the button and raised it up, Sharon came along and then led out with a biggish bet on a J56 flop. My mistake was right here, I called instead of letting go, because I had total air, and her mid to large size bet told me everything I needed to know. She had hit the flop, most likely she had a jack or maybe even 2 pair.
A second jack hit the turn, and she fired again, only the bet was again the exact same size as her lead out on the previous street. At this point I deduced correctly that she didn't have a jack, so I prepared myself mentally to bomb the river if she were to check, which she did.
It was a big bet on my part into an already big pot. She quickly cut out the chips and threw them in.
Sigh. I turned up my ace high. She flipped up 65.
I was a bit aghast and couldn't help but show it, I wasn't sure at that moment how she had found a call with a naked pair of sixes. But as I sat and collected myself and she dragged the chips, I thought about it. In her mind, she flopped 2 pair, a big hand and she bet the flop big. She's experienced enough to know that the jack was a dreadful card for her on the turn, but she also knows it's very likely that she's still ahead which is why she bet - though the sizing gave away her disappointment.
It took a lot of chutzpah on my part to try and bluff her again, after the earlier bluff which I had shown her - I honestly don't know what I was thinking. Even if I had jammed, she was very likely to still call off with 3rd high pair. It was for sure a mistake on my part to bluff the river, and now we were basically back to where we had started when heads up play began.
Thankfully, with half hour levels, I still had barely enough bigs to still raise pre-flop and have some room to manuever (though not a lot) post-flop.
Little by little I grinded back, only this time I stopped trying to continue with air unless she showed extreme disinterest. She gave me a lot of walks, for sure too many, as well - and this helped me chip up.
Then there were two or three hands close together that basically sealed the deal, culminating in one of the best bets I've ever made in a tournament.
The first hand, I hit my ace on the flop, and bet fairly big on the flop and the turn before finally checking the river, she couldn't beat my top pair and I dragged the chips.
The second hand was similar, this time she had led out, but I had flopped top pair. I bet the turn when she checked and again we both showed down. More chips for me.
Finally, I had it figured out. I raised pre-flop with QJ, she came along. She checked the flop which was KxJ, I c-bet my usual half pot and she called of course. She checked the turn which was a blank. I fired nice and chunky, she called without hesitation. There was 4 to a flush out there now. The river was another king that I believe completed the flush. She checked with very little enthusiasm.
In the past, I would simply just turn up my cards and be happy with the big pot that was already out there. This time, I cut out a monster set of 5K chips, nearly 3/4 of the pot, and slid them out. I knew I was good, and I knew if she had anything at all, bottom pair, 3rd pair, a middling pair in the hole, she was going to pay me off - because I'm the bluffingist bluffer who ever lived in her mind.
She didn't take long to count out a big portion of her stack and splash them in. I fast rolled my 2nd pair and she clucked her tongue. "Didn't think you had it." she sighed and quickly mucked in disgust.
This was where my mistake in bluffing with air less than 45 minutes earlier, really paid off huge. I know I was going to get big value from her from my image, but also from her lack of experience and the disease that most new recreational players have - the same disease that a legendary donator in our game, Emily, had for her entire tenure with us - "I don't believe you. I have to see."
Cha-ching.
It was a crippling blow to Sharon's stack, and now she was well under 20 bigs. I whittled away at her some more, she had regressed to binary mode on the flop and then to binary mode pre-flop. I had changed from raising every button to simply calling and seeing a flop. If she had big cards, she was likely to shove pre, which she did indeed and I could release for less. If she hit the flop, she would also let it rip, so it was equally easy for me to get away with minimum damage.
Finally, I looked down at AQ on the button and flat called once again. She stuck her chips in and I snapped. She had a very live J8 suited, and was 100% correct to jam, but I flopped trips and then filled up on the turn - it was over and I had taken down the TOC, the bracelet, my name on the wall and $500 in cheddar.
It felt great, it felt wonderful. The cash game players applauded for me, in a very sweet way so as to not hurt Sharon's feelings too much. It was a great, great afternoon and early evening.
Sharon pocketed $300 and I think was happy enough with her showing. She should indeed be proud, she beat out a lot of other players this year in the garage. I have no doubt that if she applies herself and studies the game and talks with players that she respects, she has more than a good chance to go far.
So there it is - though medicated and now cognizant that poker can't be the most important thing in my life, I've still found enough enthusiasm in my heart to pound all of this out. On the other hand, I will likely not play again until the second Saturday in January, over 30 days from now. Before the medicine known as Contrave, that would not have been possible.
I am grateful that I have my compulsion under control - and I have no doubt that this will in turn make the game a lot more enjoyable; as I can play with a clear conscience that I am doing right by my family, and also play with a more casual and less dire approach. It no longer matters really at all my results, I guess I'll still keep track of them, but really I don't need to. Playing once a month, or even less will be just fine with me. And this is a very good thing.
Tuesday, December 8, 2015
Tuesday, October 13, 2015
Cold Hard Math
I love math - now that I'm an adult and don't have to do homework based on it.
I love it because it is cold and indifferent, devoid of emotion or sentiment. I love it because it simply tells the truth, regardless of outside influences.
I love using it my poker game when I can, it helps me make decisions. When someone is going to give me 3 to 1 odds to chase a 4 to 1 flush, it's a fairly easy fold as long as I don't think too hard about implied odds. Math is my friend.
I recently learned to love math even more; I purchased a poker tracking app on my phone called "Run Good" for 17.99 and I have to say it was worth every penny. The numbers that have spewed out of this thing have made me very happy. Much happier than I thought I would be.
As you may know, I've been meticulously tracking my results since January of 2012; both tournaments and cash games. In 2012 I was down a bit, 2013, up a bit, 2014 up quite a bit and now 2/3 of the way through 2015, again up quite a bit.
I had a vague idea of the grand totals, but now that I've loaded all of my results into this app, the big picture has become crystal clear.
Since Jan. 2, 2012 I have played in 212 tournaments.
I have spent $18,498 on entry fees.
I have won $25, 211.
I have made $6,713 in profit. This is a 36% return on my investment.
Honestly, because I kept the spread sheet for each year separate, I had no idea that I was up this much. Granted, 212 is not a huge sample size for four years, but I'm a strictly recreational player who leads a pretty balanced life, meaning I typically only play a two or three of times a month. Plus of course an occasional Vegas bender thrown in, where I can easily play 20 tournaments in four days. But overall, I'm not anywhere near close to playing a lot.
I average just under 4 hours per tournament, which is 848 hours total - meaning my hourly profit rate for poker tournaments is a whopping $7.90 an hour.
So yes, I don't plan to quit my day job.
But still - I am so happy that I am a solidly profitable tournament poker player.
Here's a bunch of other cold math that I like, even when it's not good news. All of these stats I gleaned from "Run Good Poker Tracker."
I have won 25 tournaments - which is 12%.
(I only include 1st place finishes on chops if I have the chip lead. There are quite a few other '1st place' finishes where we just divided up the money evenly even though I was a slight dog in chips.)
I have made 55 final tables, which is 26%.
Obviously I don't include single table tournaments. Yes, I do include my monthly multi table tournaments which often have only 2 tables BUT ONLY WHEN I MAKE THE TOP THREE. I figure this is balanced a bit by the deep runs I have made in larger events, such as when I final tabled the 40 table Bally's Classic twice in two days in 2013 or when I final tabled the Hollywood Park Sport of Kings 20K guaranteed event in 2012 which had 60 tables.
I have cashed 85 times, which is 40%.
This is a pretty darn big number which is both great and not so great. A high percentage here with a mediocre hourly means I'm min-cashing way too much.
I average $87 per buy in.
My longest tournament winning streak is four cashes.
This is a bit surprising, for some reason I thought it would be more.
My best accumulative streak is $1660.
Don't know if that was from the 4 tournament winning streak.
My worst tournament losing streak is 11 non-cashes.
Again, I thought this number would be larger, glad it isn't.
My worst accumulative loss is $1165.
Glad it's not bigger than my best accumulative winning streak.
The most number of tournaments I have played at one location are in my garage - 51.
Followed by...
Hollywood Park - 32
Commerce - 31
The Bike - 22
and then believe it or not...
The Rio - 8 (which has always been for the WSOP, including the Daily Deep Stacks)
Mirage - 8
Harrah's - 8
Aria - 7
Treasure Island - 6 (weird, I thought I played here WAY more, read on to see why)
GK Binion's - 5 (Garner's home game)
Bally's - 5
My most profitable day of the week by far is Monday - $3,051 of my total profit.
That day is indeed memorable, 3 of my big 4 figure scores came on that day, two of them were on day two in larger events.
The location with the best return on my investment is Treasure Island with an ROI of %368
Makes sense, it's a $50 tournament and I've cashed there 4 out of 6 times for $300-$900 each time.
Most of my tournament 1st place finishes, happened in my garage on Saturday - 8 of them.
Followed by 7 first place finishes in other home games.
Followed by 4 fist place finishes back in my garage during the week (single table SNGs)
Followed by 6 genuine first place finishes in card rooms - 2 of them at HPC, 1 at the Bike and 1 at Commerce, plus 2 more at HPC in their long gone single table SNGs. Alas, no first place finishes in major events.
My two highest locations for winning percentage were both home games, both now defunct - Eric's game and the Monkeyland Audio game. I won in both of these 66.67% of the time. I was always an alternate at Eric's game and I was likely taken off the list at Monkeyland when I crushed souls so frequently.
As I said, good news mostly.
I am now very much inspired to know, via cold hard math, that I am indeed beating this game. Not crushing it by any means, despite my 40% cash rate - but I am truly in the black and not by a tiny margin.
My cash game stats are largely meaningless, as I have only played 18 sessions in 4 years. I didn't enter precise times, but I put 4 hours for each session as that's what it is at my home game.
$927 in profit total.
$12.52 per hour.
22.5 bb per hour.
16 profitable sessions - 88% (including 4 card room sessions, the rest are in my garage.)
Like I said, way too small to mean much; but it's nice to know I'm ahead and that I may have a cash game career ahead of me if tournaments take me out to the woodshed one too many times.
I should note that I have not included the two major WSOP events that I entered with my own money - both this year, the Colossus and the Monster Stack, $565 and $1500 respectively. I am not bankrolled in any way shape or form for these events, and thus decided to do it to 'take a shot' and have some fun. If I had cashed I would have not included those results into the app.
Well, there it is. I really overall feel very positive about this, and have a much clearer picture of where I am at in the 'long game' that is poker.
I would encourage anyone who is at the level of enthusiast or higher, to get a poker results tracking app and keep it updated. You might be pleasantly surprised, or you might find you have things to work on. In my case it was both - I'm over the moon that I've shelled out 18K and managed to come back with 25K, but I also know I have to get that cashing percentage down a bit. Less cashes over all, but more big cashes to get more profits!
Can't wait to get back on the felt with this new sense of self awareness - it's going to be a grand old time!
I love it because it is cold and indifferent, devoid of emotion or sentiment. I love it because it simply tells the truth, regardless of outside influences.
I love using it my poker game when I can, it helps me make decisions. When someone is going to give me 3 to 1 odds to chase a 4 to 1 flush, it's a fairly easy fold as long as I don't think too hard about implied odds. Math is my friend.
I recently learned to love math even more; I purchased a poker tracking app on my phone called "Run Good" for 17.99 and I have to say it was worth every penny. The numbers that have spewed out of this thing have made me very happy. Much happier than I thought I would be.
As you may know, I've been meticulously tracking my results since January of 2012; both tournaments and cash games. In 2012 I was down a bit, 2013, up a bit, 2014 up quite a bit and now 2/3 of the way through 2015, again up quite a bit.
I had a vague idea of the grand totals, but now that I've loaded all of my results into this app, the big picture has become crystal clear.
Since Jan. 2, 2012 I have played in 212 tournaments.
I have spent $18,498 on entry fees.
I have won $25, 211.
I have made $6,713 in profit. This is a 36% return on my investment.
Honestly, because I kept the spread sheet for each year separate, I had no idea that I was up this much. Granted, 212 is not a huge sample size for four years, but I'm a strictly recreational player who leads a pretty balanced life, meaning I typically only play a two or three of times a month. Plus of course an occasional Vegas bender thrown in, where I can easily play 20 tournaments in four days. But overall, I'm not anywhere near close to playing a lot.
I average just under 4 hours per tournament, which is 848 hours total - meaning my hourly profit rate for poker tournaments is a whopping $7.90 an hour.
So yes, I don't plan to quit my day job.
But still - I am so happy that I am a solidly profitable tournament poker player.
Here's a bunch of other cold math that I like, even when it's not good news. All of these stats I gleaned from "Run Good Poker Tracker."
I have won 25 tournaments - which is 12%.
(I only include 1st place finishes on chops if I have the chip lead. There are quite a few other '1st place' finishes where we just divided up the money evenly even though I was a slight dog in chips.)
I have made 55 final tables, which is 26%.
Obviously I don't include single table tournaments. Yes, I do include my monthly multi table tournaments which often have only 2 tables BUT ONLY WHEN I MAKE THE TOP THREE. I figure this is balanced a bit by the deep runs I have made in larger events, such as when I final tabled the 40 table Bally's Classic twice in two days in 2013 or when I final tabled the Hollywood Park Sport of Kings 20K guaranteed event in 2012 which had 60 tables.
I have cashed 85 times, which is 40%.
This is a pretty darn big number which is both great and not so great. A high percentage here with a mediocre hourly means I'm min-cashing way too much.
I average $87 per buy in.
My longest tournament winning streak is four cashes.
This is a bit surprising, for some reason I thought it would be more.
My best accumulative streak is $1660.
Don't know if that was from the 4 tournament winning streak.
My worst tournament losing streak is 11 non-cashes.
Again, I thought this number would be larger, glad it isn't.
My worst accumulative loss is $1165.
Glad it's not bigger than my best accumulative winning streak.
The most number of tournaments I have played at one location are in my garage - 51.
Followed by...
Hollywood Park - 32
Commerce - 31
The Bike - 22
and then believe it or not...
The Rio - 8 (which has always been for the WSOP, including the Daily Deep Stacks)
Mirage - 8
Harrah's - 8
Aria - 7
Treasure Island - 6 (weird, I thought I played here WAY more, read on to see why)
GK Binion's - 5 (Garner's home game)
Bally's - 5
My most profitable day of the week by far is Monday - $3,051 of my total profit.
That day is indeed memorable, 3 of my big 4 figure scores came on that day, two of them were on day two in larger events.
The location with the best return on my investment is Treasure Island with an ROI of %368
Makes sense, it's a $50 tournament and I've cashed there 4 out of 6 times for $300-$900 each time.
Most of my tournament 1st place finishes, happened in my garage on Saturday - 8 of them.
Followed by 7 first place finishes in other home games.
Followed by 4 fist place finishes back in my garage during the week (single table SNGs)
Followed by 6 genuine first place finishes in card rooms - 2 of them at HPC, 1 at the Bike and 1 at Commerce, plus 2 more at HPC in their long gone single table SNGs. Alas, no first place finishes in major events.
My two highest locations for winning percentage were both home games, both now defunct - Eric's game and the Monkeyland Audio game. I won in both of these 66.67% of the time. I was always an alternate at Eric's game and I was likely taken off the list at Monkeyland when I crushed souls so frequently.
As I said, good news mostly.
I am now very much inspired to know, via cold hard math, that I am indeed beating this game. Not crushing it by any means, despite my 40% cash rate - but I am truly in the black and not by a tiny margin.
My cash game stats are largely meaningless, as I have only played 18 sessions in 4 years. I didn't enter precise times, but I put 4 hours for each session as that's what it is at my home game.
$927 in profit total.
$12.52 per hour.
22.5 bb per hour.
16 profitable sessions - 88% (including 4 card room sessions, the rest are in my garage.)
Like I said, way too small to mean much; but it's nice to know I'm ahead and that I may have a cash game career ahead of me if tournaments take me out to the woodshed one too many times.
I should note that I have not included the two major WSOP events that I entered with my own money - both this year, the Colossus and the Monster Stack, $565 and $1500 respectively. I am not bankrolled in any way shape or form for these events, and thus decided to do it to 'take a shot' and have some fun. If I had cashed I would have not included those results into the app.
Well, there it is. I really overall feel very positive about this, and have a much clearer picture of where I am at in the 'long game' that is poker.
I would encourage anyone who is at the level of enthusiast or higher, to get a poker results tracking app and keep it updated. You might be pleasantly surprised, or you might find you have things to work on. In my case it was both - I'm over the moon that I've shelled out 18K and managed to come back with 25K, but I also know I have to get that cashing percentage down a bit. Less cashes over all, but more big cashes to get more profits!
Can't wait to get back on the felt with this new sense of self awareness - it's going to be a grand old time!
Thursday, October 1, 2015
It's not you, it's me...
So next year will mark the 10 year anniversary of my home game, Pepper Street Poker.
As you likely know, if you peruse the blog over there, I host a monthly multi-table tournament. The buy in is $40 and it's a very social, very friendly gathering of chums & chums of chums that typically sees about 20 people playing for about 6 hours for a $300 top prize and a trophy and a picture on the wall and a seat in the Tournament of Champions.
All in all a fun time, and a grand time. Grander I'd say than probably 90% of all home poker games.
I've had a blast hosting it, and goodness knows I've also had great results, especially lately. This year alone I've won 3 tournaments out of 10, and also finished second twice, and both of those times the hour was late and I managed to negotiate an even money chop in exchange for a seat that I already had locked up. I also made these deals truthfully, for the health of the game, as I don't think winning nearly half of my own tournaments looks that great.
Anyways, I've always enjoyed hosting, it has it's own rewards beyond just playing cards. But it is a lot of work. A lot of work.
Set up begins around 1 or 2pm on Saturday, at the latest. Because it's multiple tables, with typically around 20 players coming, it means I have to set up 3 tables just in case I get last minute extra players. Then there's the chips, cards, buttons, snack tables etc. Plus I usually use a leaf blower to clean out the garage first. And then I also go to the store for snacks. All told, with this trip included, set up at a pace that isn't frantic is at least 3 hours.
And then sometimes it's too hot to play in the garage, so I have to set up on the patio, which adds another hour.
Anyways, I'm not complaining really - I've always enjoyed these duties, and the reward of hosting a game that everyone loves has been more than worth it.
But lately, when it comes to poker, my mind has been on a bit of a wanderlust; that is, as the game in my garage goes on, so too does the game at large; and increasingly that's where my thoughts and body go.
I've recognized over the past few years, that poker is much larger than my little monthly Saturday night party. I've been hosting these big tournaments because I enjoy it, but also because I felt in the past that if I didn't, I wouldn't be playing too much poker.
These days, I average one Sunday a month at the Bike or Commerce, in their daily tournament; I also take time every other week during the week to go to a home game in North Hollywood or Garner's game out near Culver City. So were my game to disappear entirely, I would still be playing a substantial amount.
With this in mind, I lately have been asking myself - is the work and time I put in to hosting a big monthly multi-table tournament worth it? Looking at this with total honesty and transparency I can say there are for sure pros and cons.
PROS:
- I have a roster of over 70 players, 2/3 of which make it out at least once a year and 1/3 of which make it almost every month. They love the game, and by and large they are all nice people.
- I take a lot of pride in running the best home poker game that I've ever played in; I've played in some lovely home games, but none even come close to the level of organization and finesse that mine has.
- There is at this point, a rather long history of this game. A perpetual plaque on the wall has six names for player of the year over the better part of the past decade; even before things got all official, we've been playing in this garage for almost 10 years. I would hate to see that simply up and vanish.
But then there are a few cons -
CONS:
- I increasingly look at my game as more of an obligation than something I enjoy. I'd say the ratio is now 60/40 obligation to enjoyment. It used to be about 80/20 in the reverse. This is because of two things...
- Longtime players that I'd grown quite fond of, are no longer playing. Some have moved away, some have moved on to other things, and even a couple have left this earth. Most notably one of the rocks (not rock as in tight player, but rock as in reliably always at the game and a great guy) recently had a blow up with another player and now refuses to show up when he does. Another huge rock just moved to Florida. So now I don't have them, and they've been replaced with younger and perfectly nice people, but not people that I have a decade long friendship with. Honestly, it's been tough because I didn't realize how much I enjoyed the social aspect of the game until some of my best buds were gone.
- I have a never ending hunger to improve my game and get good results out in the wild (in card rooms and casinos) and I don't know if the game in my garage with randoms who often are terrible players (though lovely people) is doing my game more harm than good. It does boost my confidence somewhat to beat up on other players who think they're hot shit but really are just toddlers in the game, but that's about the only positive thing. And really, it's not that positive. These are nice folks that I barely know, and it doesn't help my heart very much to run them over - I'd much rather pummel fish in a casino, not nice kids who just want to enjoy their evening.
Ultimately though, I can come up with a list of good and bad things about the monthly tournaments in my garage, but it really boils down to one question - "Is hosting this game going to get me closer to my goal?"
What is my goal? Well it hit me last night light a bolt of lighting - so hard that I shot up off of the couch.
I was watching the Main Event of the WSOP, thinking about how much I admired the guys around the featured table and thinking to myself - they're very good, because they play every day, I may never be that good; but I'm certainly capable of it. I really know I can do it - within the framework of my life that I love. I can be there some day.
And so that's it - I have to make this decision about my Saturday game, keep it the same or take a break - based on my one goal; the goal of succeeding in large poker tournaments. There's good things about it, maybe more good things than bad things, but that's not material. What matters ultimately is this one question and my one desire.
Here's exactly what I want - I've cashed for 1, 2 even 3 thousand dollars before. I'm really aiming to the upper four figures or even five figures. I've got the $2700 thing, now I'm ready for the $8000 thing or even the $17,000 thing or yes, maybe even the $43,000 thing.
I know I can do it, with more serious play under my belt - and the Saturday tournament in my garage, lovely as it it, is not serious play.
So, Saturday tournament, this is the truth - it's not you, it's me.
We only get one life, so I have to use it with me in mind, and in this case, I'm going to give up my Saturday tournament hosting duties for awhile - to concentrate on me and what I want. To drastically improve my game and to see big results in a large (for me) buy-in tournament.
To this end, I still very much plan to keep playing poker in my garage.
Rather than a big elaborate multi-table event once a month on a Saturday that takes up 4 hours of set-up and 7 hours of playing, I think I will be much better served by hosting a very simple one table poker night that takes 10 minutes to set up and that happens during the week.
The plan is to come home from work, pull up in my driveway around 6:30, open the garage door, plop open a table, drag some chairs over, then pull out the cards and chips (which will already be set up to hand out in stacks) and then go inside and have a nice dinner. I'll return at 7:25 to sit down and welcome players at the table, take their monies, punch up the tournament software on my i-pad and start.
Water will already be in the cooler, nuts and bowls on the shelf. Music will be via my i-phone and jbl charge. No preparation for anything else.
I'd love for this to happen every other Wednesday night. Every 3 or 4 tournaments or so, we'll break it up with a low stakes cash game or maybe even a tournament different from NLHE such as Omaha/8 or HORSE.
I realize that I very well may be killing the golden goose here, no doubt I will lose quite a few players, hopefully not too many regulars. It would be a shame to not be able to have a full table every week, but I'm prepared to live with it, or even potentially the loss of my game entire.
My poker education has to come first, and I have no doubt that I will get LOADS more benefit in hosting a bi-weekly single table full of folks that I know well and whose games I respect and who I can talk poker with during and after.
I wrote up a whole post, similar to this one but maybe not quite so revealing, and was going to post it on the Pepper Street blog as an announcement that the Saturday tournaments were coming to an end, but now I think I'll just shorten the post tremendously, leaving out explanations and simply stating that we're on a break from the Saturday MTT's. People in general, unless they are my close friends, don't really give a shit why things are changing and really, I don't blame them.
So, that's why I have this post here. It feels good to really articulate why this change has come about.
In the end, if my game does implode, it won't be the end of the world. I have a couple of nice home games that I can always attend - and there's always the Bike and Commerce with their low cost dailies that are great venues for working hard and seriously on my game. Best of all, no bruised egos and no hurt feelings - at least on my end or with people that I am familiar with and also trying to entertain and host. I think my game will get better when I can leave the hosting duties to the professionals - and those hosting duties that I do take on are much less taxing.
I'm excited about this big change in my poker life, I like that I am choosing to focus more on the game and learning from my good friends; I am relieved that I don't have such a large obligation to entertain entirely on my shoulders anymore. Can't wait for next year to start!
EDIT / ADDENDUM
I never rush into big decisions like this and change things immediately, I like to 'sleep on it' so to speak - give myself time to think about and mentally digest. Writing about a big decision is one form of this digestion, and after writing the above, I'm having a bit of a change of heart.
I still want to cut way down on the Saturday tournament, but doing away with it entirely seems a bit too much. As I said above, there is a history here - a perpetual plaque on the wall and a legacy of sorts that I would hate to see vanish.
So my tentative plan right now, at least until I change my mind again, is to still throw Saturday night tournaments, probably once every two or three months or so - doubling the buy-in at least so people will feel it's worth coming out and playing for; and making it a biggish deal. Stay tuned, I may change my mind yet again before the year is up.
As you likely know, if you peruse the blog over there, I host a monthly multi-table tournament. The buy in is $40 and it's a very social, very friendly gathering of chums & chums of chums that typically sees about 20 people playing for about 6 hours for a $300 top prize and a trophy and a picture on the wall and a seat in the Tournament of Champions.
All in all a fun time, and a grand time. Grander I'd say than probably 90% of all home poker games.
I've had a blast hosting it, and goodness knows I've also had great results, especially lately. This year alone I've won 3 tournaments out of 10, and also finished second twice, and both of those times the hour was late and I managed to negotiate an even money chop in exchange for a seat that I already had locked up. I also made these deals truthfully, for the health of the game, as I don't think winning nearly half of my own tournaments looks that great.
Anyways, I've always enjoyed hosting, it has it's own rewards beyond just playing cards. But it is a lot of work. A lot of work.
Set up begins around 1 or 2pm on Saturday, at the latest. Because it's multiple tables, with typically around 20 players coming, it means I have to set up 3 tables just in case I get last minute extra players. Then there's the chips, cards, buttons, snack tables etc. Plus I usually use a leaf blower to clean out the garage first. And then I also go to the store for snacks. All told, with this trip included, set up at a pace that isn't frantic is at least 3 hours.
And then sometimes it's too hot to play in the garage, so I have to set up on the patio, which adds another hour.
Anyways, I'm not complaining really - I've always enjoyed these duties, and the reward of hosting a game that everyone loves has been more than worth it.
But lately, when it comes to poker, my mind has been on a bit of a wanderlust; that is, as the game in my garage goes on, so too does the game at large; and increasingly that's where my thoughts and body go.
I've recognized over the past few years, that poker is much larger than my little monthly Saturday night party. I've been hosting these big tournaments because I enjoy it, but also because I felt in the past that if I didn't, I wouldn't be playing too much poker.
These days, I average one Sunday a month at the Bike or Commerce, in their daily tournament; I also take time every other week during the week to go to a home game in North Hollywood or Garner's game out near Culver City. So were my game to disappear entirely, I would still be playing a substantial amount.
With this in mind, I lately have been asking myself - is the work and time I put in to hosting a big monthly multi-table tournament worth it? Looking at this with total honesty and transparency I can say there are for sure pros and cons.
PROS:
- I have a roster of over 70 players, 2/3 of which make it out at least once a year and 1/3 of which make it almost every month. They love the game, and by and large they are all nice people.
- I take a lot of pride in running the best home poker game that I've ever played in; I've played in some lovely home games, but none even come close to the level of organization and finesse that mine has.
- There is at this point, a rather long history of this game. A perpetual plaque on the wall has six names for player of the year over the better part of the past decade; even before things got all official, we've been playing in this garage for almost 10 years. I would hate to see that simply up and vanish.
But then there are a few cons -
CONS:
- I increasingly look at my game as more of an obligation than something I enjoy. I'd say the ratio is now 60/40 obligation to enjoyment. It used to be about 80/20 in the reverse. This is because of two things...
- Longtime players that I'd grown quite fond of, are no longer playing. Some have moved away, some have moved on to other things, and even a couple have left this earth. Most notably one of the rocks (not rock as in tight player, but rock as in reliably always at the game and a great guy) recently had a blow up with another player and now refuses to show up when he does. Another huge rock just moved to Florida. So now I don't have them, and they've been replaced with younger and perfectly nice people, but not people that I have a decade long friendship with. Honestly, it's been tough because I didn't realize how much I enjoyed the social aspect of the game until some of my best buds were gone.
- I have a never ending hunger to improve my game and get good results out in the wild (in card rooms and casinos) and I don't know if the game in my garage with randoms who often are terrible players (though lovely people) is doing my game more harm than good. It does boost my confidence somewhat to beat up on other players who think they're hot shit but really are just toddlers in the game, but that's about the only positive thing. And really, it's not that positive. These are nice folks that I barely know, and it doesn't help my heart very much to run them over - I'd much rather pummel fish in a casino, not nice kids who just want to enjoy their evening.
Ultimately though, I can come up with a list of good and bad things about the monthly tournaments in my garage, but it really boils down to one question - "Is hosting this game going to get me closer to my goal?"
What is my goal? Well it hit me last night light a bolt of lighting - so hard that I shot up off of the couch.
I was watching the Main Event of the WSOP, thinking about how much I admired the guys around the featured table and thinking to myself - they're very good, because they play every day, I may never be that good; but I'm certainly capable of it. I really know I can do it - within the framework of my life that I love. I can be there some day.
And so that's it - I have to make this decision about my Saturday game, keep it the same or take a break - based on my one goal; the goal of succeeding in large poker tournaments. There's good things about it, maybe more good things than bad things, but that's not material. What matters ultimately is this one question and my one desire.
Here's exactly what I want - I've cashed for 1, 2 even 3 thousand dollars before. I'm really aiming to the upper four figures or even five figures. I've got the $2700 thing, now I'm ready for the $8000 thing or even the $17,000 thing or yes, maybe even the $43,000 thing.
I know I can do it, with more serious play under my belt - and the Saturday tournament in my garage, lovely as it it, is not serious play.
So, Saturday tournament, this is the truth - it's not you, it's me.
We only get one life, so I have to use it with me in mind, and in this case, I'm going to give up my Saturday tournament hosting duties for awhile - to concentrate on me and what I want. To drastically improve my game and to see big results in a large (for me) buy-in tournament.
To this end, I still very much plan to keep playing poker in my garage.
Rather than a big elaborate multi-table event once a month on a Saturday that takes up 4 hours of set-up and 7 hours of playing, I think I will be much better served by hosting a very simple one table poker night that takes 10 minutes to set up and that happens during the week.
The plan is to come home from work, pull up in my driveway around 6:30, open the garage door, plop open a table, drag some chairs over, then pull out the cards and chips (which will already be set up to hand out in stacks) and then go inside and have a nice dinner. I'll return at 7:25 to sit down and welcome players at the table, take their monies, punch up the tournament software on my i-pad and start.
Water will already be in the cooler, nuts and bowls on the shelf. Music will be via my i-phone and jbl charge. No preparation for anything else.
I'd love for this to happen every other Wednesday night. Every 3 or 4 tournaments or so, we'll break it up with a low stakes cash game or maybe even a tournament different from NLHE such as Omaha/8 or HORSE.
I realize that I very well may be killing the golden goose here, no doubt I will lose quite a few players, hopefully not too many regulars. It would be a shame to not be able to have a full table every week, but I'm prepared to live with it, or even potentially the loss of my game entire.
My poker education has to come first, and I have no doubt that I will get LOADS more benefit in hosting a bi-weekly single table full of folks that I know well and whose games I respect and who I can talk poker with during and after.
I wrote up a whole post, similar to this one but maybe not quite so revealing, and was going to post it on the Pepper Street blog as an announcement that the Saturday tournaments were coming to an end, but now I think I'll just shorten the post tremendously, leaving out explanations and simply stating that we're on a break from the Saturday MTT's. People in general, unless they are my close friends, don't really give a shit why things are changing and really, I don't blame them.
So, that's why I have this post here. It feels good to really articulate why this change has come about.
In the end, if my game does implode, it won't be the end of the world. I have a couple of nice home games that I can always attend - and there's always the Bike and Commerce with their low cost dailies that are great venues for working hard and seriously on my game. Best of all, no bruised egos and no hurt feelings - at least on my end or with people that I am familiar with and also trying to entertain and host. I think my game will get better when I can leave the hosting duties to the professionals - and those hosting duties that I do take on are much less taxing.
I'm excited about this big change in my poker life, I like that I am choosing to focus more on the game and learning from my good friends; I am relieved that I don't have such a large obligation to entertain entirely on my shoulders anymore. Can't wait for next year to start!
EDIT / ADDENDUM
I never rush into big decisions like this and change things immediately, I like to 'sleep on it' so to speak - give myself time to think about and mentally digest. Writing about a big decision is one form of this digestion, and after writing the above, I'm having a bit of a change of heart.
I still want to cut way down on the Saturday tournament, but doing away with it entirely seems a bit too much. As I said above, there is a history here - a perpetual plaque on the wall and a legacy of sorts that I would hate to see vanish.
So my tentative plan right now, at least until I change my mind again, is to still throw Saturday night tournaments, probably once every two or three months or so - doubling the buy-in at least so people will feel it's worth coming out and playing for; and making it a biggish deal. Stay tuned, I may change my mind yet again before the year is up.
Tuesday, June 23, 2015
Interim (WSOP 2015.02)
I guess this is my official 2nd report on the 2015 WSOP. I originally thought it would be an upbeat and bubbly straight ahead report, but I first scribbled down my innermost poker thoughts on this year's sojourn to Vegas, and when I looked back at it I thought to myself, self, this is a pretty good encapsulation even if it is light on the details.
As you can see on the first report, my results were less than stellar. Sad to say they were even bleaker on the second go round, with not even a measly min-cash to temper the beating.
The weekend of the Monster Stack I only had 3 major entries and 1 fun side event, the Omaha 8 tournament at Orleans. While I did enjoy myself, the card-centric nature of fixed limit tournaments combined with my lack of experience and any significant skills worked together to guarantee my relatively early exit. I chased where I shouldn't have, and blanked even when the odds happened to be in my favor.
Alas, my 3 NLHE entries, the details of which have since faded from my memory, were also fruitless. At the conclusion of my inauspicious Monster Stack run (barely 4 hours) I made a bee-line for the airport and quickly returned home, licking my wounds and very glad to be back with the family.
I was, indeed, thoroughly disappointed. But on reflection and with the passage of time, I am better than okay with how things turned out.
My poker brethren also partook in the Monster Stack - four others actually, more from my garage than have ever gone forth in the WSOP with their own money (though one was staked) than ever before. All four struck out, two of them relatively quickly like me, the other two found a more prolonged death well into day 2 and nowhere near the money.
All four were no doubt crestfallen as I was, but I wonder if they look back as I do and see the big picture and thus the brighter side.
Tournament poker is exceedingly difficult to conquer, for seasoned pro, serious semi-pro, hard core amateur and total newbie alike. Once again, Daniel Negraneau is halfway through the series with over a dozen entries and only a single cash to his name. But still, he is one of the best tournament players in the world and has no reason to doubt this.
Carrying it further, the arrogance that we as poker players bring into a major tournament is wholly necessary not only for both our sanity and our egos but to help insure the best result possible. Ergo, we only play as good as we feel, and the better we feel the better we play. You have to be a bit cocky in these things, even when you have every logical reason to not be.
I didn't feel especially outclassed in the Monster Stack, but I was keenly aware that the three players to my direct left were better than I was. The others more to my right, were for sure softer, but if they'd had position on me, I would've been forced to reevaluate this summation.
Gladly, my good friend Allen, for the first time in his poker career, found himself at his final Monster Stack table, surrounded by sharks. I say gladly, because I feel it is a very important part of every poker players career and evolution to be confronted by the cold fact that poker is for real and truly a skill game. Hand in hand with this, there are plenty of very skilled players out there, and eventually you will run into them; and in doing so you will realize and acknowledge that they are, indeed, better than you.
I found this out years ago, at the 2011 WSOP, but it was good to be reminded again. Had I run better, and in more than a few instances played better in 2015, I might have been able to hang and hang on. But I was determined not to fold my way to a min-cash, were it in the cards, which, judging by Allen and Jeff's results, it was not.
So at the time, I was dejected. In hindsight, I am at peace and in some ways rejuvenated.
Last Saturday night 19 of us amateurs returned to my garage for a good old $40 tournament. I ran pretty well, but I also played exceptionally well, as every opponent I faced fell squarely into the category of food rather than someone that would eat me. There was one opponent that might occasionally take a chunk out of me, but he was on my near right, and so I was able to avoid and/or outmaneuver him just by virtue of that position.
The others were simply fodder. The bet sizing tells that abounded were mainly what kept me in good stead. Big bet? Big hand. Small bet? Mediocre hand or air. It really was that simple. And it was a great reminder that skill ultimately rules at this silly game that has inflamed my passions so frequently of late.
I take solace that I wasn't a chump less than 4 hours into my WSOP event - I was simply fodder. And so were my compatriots. Could I or anyone of them have gotten hit by the deck a bit and gotten into the money? Absolutely. Were any of us destined for a truly deep run and maybe even the final table? Well, probably not. Stranger things have happened, but truthfully, there are not only a zillion land mines to avoid, but there is an absolutely genuine skill gap.
I do honestly believe that I have been narrowing that gap little by little every year, as I study and work on my game - but I refuse to buy into hype, either my own or ESPN's, that I'm only a few lucky hands away from a six figure score.
Poker is very much like life, in that there is a statistically infinitesimal amount of people who have hit it big mostly by luck. But by far the vast majority of those who do succeed and especially the ones who succeed big, get there by doing the work. It's not enough to splash around with play chips a few times a week, or hit Commerce once or twice a month. It truly isn't. The poker players who learn how to accumulate chips in a tournament and hang on to them don't take short cuts or read books or attend a poker clinic - they put in the time at the tables. Period. The ones who play every day, and work hard at improving, those are the ones we end up seeing under the hot lights.
As a man with a family and a job, I recognize that I will likely never be in this group; and frankly, the amount of work and devotion that is required to climb that mountain is beyond not only my budget but my sanity as well.
It has been said over and over that poker is a tough way to make an easy living; I can easily take that farther and say it's a miserable way to go through life if that's all you have to think about. I love, love, love poker - and I want to continue doing so. Therefore I can wholly accept that the odds of a five figure cash in the WSOP are truly pretty long, and the odds of getting into the six figure / final table club are basically nil.
This thought is both sobering and liberating. It gives me both the pause and the spark I need to carry on, playing when I can, but always putting my family and livelihood first.
How's this for a strange metaphor? Poker is like the Okavango Delta in Botswana. Wild, vast, and yet obtainable with a bit of cash and a sense of adventure. But stay too long and you're likely to get malaria. Wander into the wrong area and you very well might get eaten.
Go to a photo Safari camp. Pay your $1100 a night for a week and enjoy. Take photos and video. Then get your ass home. You are not a Nat Geo film maker, you aren't in the delta every day and you really wouldn't want to be. Sure, on some random vacation you may stumble across a lion taking down a zebra and get the footage of a lifetime; but odds are - you won't. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy the splendor and the journey.
And so that's it for me - I'm looking at the WSOP like I would a Safari. I would love to see a leopard fighting a hyena, but I'll be very happy seeing an elephant browsing on leaves at sunset. I know it's going to be expensive, but I know that it's disposable income, and I'm not paying for a two month stay at the most expensive resort. I'm going for a week, and I'm staying on a local reserve where the chef is good but not great and the camp could charitably be called 'rustic'.
The Colossus really seems to me to be the best value, the budget Safari that still has a chance of capturing a great moment or two. I would be thrilled to have a WSOP cash on my Hendon Mob page, and this seems entirely reasonable and obtainable, my first two tables were amazingly soft. I would rather do this every year than drop another grand and a half and go up against sharks who splash around every day in the Monster Stack.
Still, I have no regrets and I'm glad I did it. Next year - a different approach. I would love to stay in Vegas for a full week, but instead of flying I will drive up, instead of Aria I'll stick with the Orleans. No rental car and no flight means I can afford a half a dozen more buy-ins to smaller events. Ideally, I would play local dailies (not tiny turbos, but real events like at the Aria or Binions) during the week and then fire two bullets in the Colossus come the weekend. In a perfect world I would have cashed enough up until then to free roll into it.
We will see. Until then, I'm going to remember to appreciate the game as a vast and beautiful (though sometimes dangerous) savannah - a place that I love to visit on occasion, but one that I respect and stay away from a good amount of the time.
As you can see on the first report, my results were less than stellar. Sad to say they were even bleaker on the second go round, with not even a measly min-cash to temper the beating.
The weekend of the Monster Stack I only had 3 major entries and 1 fun side event, the Omaha 8 tournament at Orleans. While I did enjoy myself, the card-centric nature of fixed limit tournaments combined with my lack of experience and any significant skills worked together to guarantee my relatively early exit. I chased where I shouldn't have, and blanked even when the odds happened to be in my favor.
Alas, my 3 NLHE entries, the details of which have since faded from my memory, were also fruitless. At the conclusion of my inauspicious Monster Stack run (barely 4 hours) I made a bee-line for the airport and quickly returned home, licking my wounds and very glad to be back with the family.
I was, indeed, thoroughly disappointed. But on reflection and with the passage of time, I am better than okay with how things turned out.
My poker brethren also partook in the Monster Stack - four others actually, more from my garage than have ever gone forth in the WSOP with their own money (though one was staked) than ever before. All four struck out, two of them relatively quickly like me, the other two found a more prolonged death well into day 2 and nowhere near the money.
All four were no doubt crestfallen as I was, but I wonder if they look back as I do and see the big picture and thus the brighter side.
Tournament poker is exceedingly difficult to conquer, for seasoned pro, serious semi-pro, hard core amateur and total newbie alike. Once again, Daniel Negraneau is halfway through the series with over a dozen entries and only a single cash to his name. But still, he is one of the best tournament players in the world and has no reason to doubt this.
Carrying it further, the arrogance that we as poker players bring into a major tournament is wholly necessary not only for both our sanity and our egos but to help insure the best result possible. Ergo, we only play as good as we feel, and the better we feel the better we play. You have to be a bit cocky in these things, even when you have every logical reason to not be.
I didn't feel especially outclassed in the Monster Stack, but I was keenly aware that the three players to my direct left were better than I was. The others more to my right, were for sure softer, but if they'd had position on me, I would've been forced to reevaluate this summation.
Gladly, my good friend Allen, for the first time in his poker career, found himself at his final Monster Stack table, surrounded by sharks. I say gladly, because I feel it is a very important part of every poker players career and evolution to be confronted by the cold fact that poker is for real and truly a skill game. Hand in hand with this, there are plenty of very skilled players out there, and eventually you will run into them; and in doing so you will realize and acknowledge that they are, indeed, better than you.
I found this out years ago, at the 2011 WSOP, but it was good to be reminded again. Had I run better, and in more than a few instances played better in 2015, I might have been able to hang and hang on. But I was determined not to fold my way to a min-cash, were it in the cards, which, judging by Allen and Jeff's results, it was not.
So at the time, I was dejected. In hindsight, I am at peace and in some ways rejuvenated.
Last Saturday night 19 of us amateurs returned to my garage for a good old $40 tournament. I ran pretty well, but I also played exceptionally well, as every opponent I faced fell squarely into the category of food rather than someone that would eat me. There was one opponent that might occasionally take a chunk out of me, but he was on my near right, and so I was able to avoid and/or outmaneuver him just by virtue of that position.
The others were simply fodder. The bet sizing tells that abounded were mainly what kept me in good stead. Big bet? Big hand. Small bet? Mediocre hand or air. It really was that simple. And it was a great reminder that skill ultimately rules at this silly game that has inflamed my passions so frequently of late.
I take solace that I wasn't a chump less than 4 hours into my WSOP event - I was simply fodder. And so were my compatriots. Could I or anyone of them have gotten hit by the deck a bit and gotten into the money? Absolutely. Were any of us destined for a truly deep run and maybe even the final table? Well, probably not. Stranger things have happened, but truthfully, there are not only a zillion land mines to avoid, but there is an absolutely genuine skill gap.
I do honestly believe that I have been narrowing that gap little by little every year, as I study and work on my game - but I refuse to buy into hype, either my own or ESPN's, that I'm only a few lucky hands away from a six figure score.
Poker is very much like life, in that there is a statistically infinitesimal amount of people who have hit it big mostly by luck. But by far the vast majority of those who do succeed and especially the ones who succeed big, get there by doing the work. It's not enough to splash around with play chips a few times a week, or hit Commerce once or twice a month. It truly isn't. The poker players who learn how to accumulate chips in a tournament and hang on to them don't take short cuts or read books or attend a poker clinic - they put in the time at the tables. Period. The ones who play every day, and work hard at improving, those are the ones we end up seeing under the hot lights.
As a man with a family and a job, I recognize that I will likely never be in this group; and frankly, the amount of work and devotion that is required to climb that mountain is beyond not only my budget but my sanity as well.
It has been said over and over that poker is a tough way to make an easy living; I can easily take that farther and say it's a miserable way to go through life if that's all you have to think about. I love, love, love poker - and I want to continue doing so. Therefore I can wholly accept that the odds of a five figure cash in the WSOP are truly pretty long, and the odds of getting into the six figure / final table club are basically nil.
This thought is both sobering and liberating. It gives me both the pause and the spark I need to carry on, playing when I can, but always putting my family and livelihood first.
How's this for a strange metaphor? Poker is like the Okavango Delta in Botswana. Wild, vast, and yet obtainable with a bit of cash and a sense of adventure. But stay too long and you're likely to get malaria. Wander into the wrong area and you very well might get eaten.
Go to a photo Safari camp. Pay your $1100 a night for a week and enjoy. Take photos and video. Then get your ass home. You are not a Nat Geo film maker, you aren't in the delta every day and you really wouldn't want to be. Sure, on some random vacation you may stumble across a lion taking down a zebra and get the footage of a lifetime; but odds are - you won't. Doesn't mean you can't enjoy the splendor and the journey.
And so that's it for me - I'm looking at the WSOP like I would a Safari. I would love to see a leopard fighting a hyena, but I'll be very happy seeing an elephant browsing on leaves at sunset. I know it's going to be expensive, but I know that it's disposable income, and I'm not paying for a two month stay at the most expensive resort. I'm going for a week, and I'm staying on a local reserve where the chef is good but not great and the camp could charitably be called 'rustic'.
The Colossus really seems to me to be the best value, the budget Safari that still has a chance of capturing a great moment or two. I would be thrilled to have a WSOP cash on my Hendon Mob page, and this seems entirely reasonable and obtainable, my first two tables were amazingly soft. I would rather do this every year than drop another grand and a half and go up against sharks who splash around every day in the Monster Stack.
Still, I have no regrets and I'm glad I did it. Next year - a different approach. I would love to stay in Vegas for a full week, but instead of flying I will drive up, instead of Aria I'll stick with the Orleans. No rental car and no flight means I can afford a half a dozen more buy-ins to smaller events. Ideally, I would play local dailies (not tiny turbos, but real events like at the Aria or Binions) during the week and then fire two bullets in the Colossus come the weekend. In a perfect world I would have cashed enough up until then to free roll into it.
We will see. Until then, I'm going to remember to appreciate the game as a vast and beautiful (though sometimes dangerous) savannah - a place that I love to visit on occasion, but one that I respect and stay away from a good amount of the time.
Tuesday, June 2, 2015
WSOP 2015.01
And so it was that I found myself Vegas bound on a Thursday afternoon, headed out to play in the largest poker tournament in history. Thank goodness my flight had a crack cockpit crew. Or maybe they were just on crack.
With the bugs off the windshield and everything in order, we took off on time and arrived while it was still light outside. My rental car had a mere five miles on the odometer...
And even better, it was named after the home of the World Series of Poker!
And so it went. First they played the fanfare from the movie The Natural, which gave me goosebumps. Then Jack Eiffel, the tournament director of the WSOP entire, gave an emotional and rather rousing speech just prior to the shuffle up and deal. The actual announcement was a bit of silly business with a Roman gladiator in full costume that I ignored - he said, "Shuffle up and kill - I mean, deal!" which was barely legible at the time.
As well as about 20 tables jammed inside the food court! Crazy!
And so we were in plenty of time to register for a $160 tournament at Binion's. Noah lasted quite a bit longer than me, as I managed to suck fairly hard. I underestimated my opponents as they were almost all older than me and very passive at the table. Of course, I realized in hind-sight, that most of them that I tangled with, likely play tournament poker just about every day. In any case, while I had been gently led to value-town once in the Colossus, in this Binion's tournament it seemed I was determined to take the grand tour. Over and over and over and over. I sucked pretty hard.
So I bid Noah adieu, but not before I saw this guy sit down at his table.
Yes, Oakland A's fans, that's Jose Canseco! Noah said he was friendly and chatty as all get out. Too bad I missed out. But I didn't miss out on the Aria 7pm. I arrived well over an hour before start time, plenty of time to register right? Wrong.
Yep, there was a line alright. The Aria was also running a high roller and a charity tournament so they only had 20 tables available. I was alternate 51, and by the time the first break rolled around, I still wasn't in and there were over 250 more alternates to go after me!
Still, I got to sit down in the third level with over 50 bigs, which wasn't too bad. I dragged a few pots before stumbling with my top two pair losing to a set and me once again visiting my favorite town. Thankfully my opponent didn't just shove on me, I likely would've given him my whole stack.
And so, down to 15 bigs, I found a good spot to rip against a very active big stack. I was in the small blind with A10 and he had opened from the cutoff for the umpteenth time. This time though, he had queens. Oh well.
I finished off the night with another trip to T.I., though I was far too late in arriving to get into the tournament. I said goodbye to Noah and Jason, who had both failed to make day 2 in the Colossus, and headed for bed.
The flight out the next morning was uneventful and I was happy to be home with the fam.
I wish my results had been better on this trip, but I can honestly say that everything else was fantastic. If online poker somehow manages to become legal in California and then eventually the country, we are for sure headed into another poker boom.
The game to me seems almost as popular as it's ever been. Over 20,000 people played in the Colossus, and every other poker room I visited while it was going on was packed to the gills as well. Even better, even at my toughest table, the third table I sat at in the Colossus, I never felt intimidated in the least. Even in 2015, most people know how to play the game with only some amount of skill - there is a lot of profit to be made by playing aggressively and by paying attention as I know I can when I have had enough sleep and am in the right frame of mind.
So that said, when I return, maybe this year maybe next, I will do a better job of getting sleep the night before a big event, and I will schedule my return better in advance. This year I set my hotel and flight basically assuming that I would bust. Next year I'm scheduling my return on the day of the final table, so I'll be well into the money when and if I have to make any changes. I think this will help my mental state as well, as I don't think I was feeling competitive enough this time around. I also plan to fire multiple bullets like Jason did. Even though he failed to cash, he did get quite a bit farther than I did, and I know the multiple entries helped him play more aggressive and more effectively.
As for the looming Monster Stack in two weeks, I'm not sure if I'm going or not. That will all depend of course on family, job and other commitments - right now it is looking like about 50/50. We will see. In any case, I look forward to playing the Colossus again and again and again, as many years as they'll have it. I really think, despite the occasional wrinkles such as losing a few entry slips here and there (mine included) it could not have gone much better. We started on time, and the event, as 'Colossal' as it was - seemed to go exceptionally smooth.
Stay tuned, there may or may not be a part two.
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| Damn bugs. |
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| Spankin' new. |
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| Fortuitous? |
But before I could make my way over to pick up my pre-registered ticket to the Colossus - yes, the aforementioned BIGGEST TOURNAMENT IN POKER HISTORY, I had some degenerate gambling to do. No, not poker, well not a real tournament anyways. I met up with my pal Jason and together we indulged in the silliness that is the Treasure Island 10pm $65 Donk-A-Ment.
Though the starting stack has improved, they now give you 10,000 in chips instead of 4,000, the structure has not. If anything it is slightly worse, as they skip the 400-800, 500-1000, 800-1600 and 1500-3000 levels, among many others.
So it was, after the second break, Jason was long gone and I hobbled my way to the finish line, flipping coins for a min-cash of less than $200. Ah well.
It was almost 2am and I thought I would be smart and hightail it over to the Rio where the line for pre-registration pickup would surely be short.
WRONG.
After 45 minutes in line, followed up by another hour waiting in the casino cage area, they found my lost ticket and I was well on my way to a delightful 4am bed time.
Morning came 3 hours later and I had scrubbed my sweaty bits clean and made my way to Mecca.
As I approached the convention center area, I caught sight of some old school goodness in a rather shitbox car.
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| Binion's - bitches. |
And then, I was there...
I was quite a bit early, and so I commenced to people watching, occasionally staring at my golden ticket in hand.
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| And checking out the new Poker Hall of Fame banners - including cold blooded killer Benny Binion! |
Finally they let me into where I would be playing - the vaunted Amazon room. A bit smaller than the other two rooms with very cool lighting, this is typically where the higher buy in events and the day 2's take place. It also has the final table tv area, which was dark when I was there.
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| My section, around the corner, where I've more than once watched the 50K players championship. |
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| My table... |
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| And my stack. |
And we were underway. My first table was surprisingly tight and soft. I cued off of this and got engaged early, dragging a half dozen or so small pots within the first 40 minute level. Barely into the second level, the table broke, as I knew it probably would. We had been warned by the floor in our section that we would be first to go.
I found myself in the center of the main Amazon section, at a much more seasoned table, and this is where I took my first few couple of hits. Tangled up with a fellow who knew how to get me to come along to value town almost willingly.
There was another dude who thought he was God's gift to poker, I spanked him a bit, ripping my flopped broadway straight on the river and he paid me off. Despite my earlier missteps I found myself around 50 big blinds at the first break and I was excited. I was playing well and reading my opponents expertly.
Shortly after my return, our table, and about ten other tables around us, all broke at once, and we were in the Pavillion room. The Amazon room has the prestige, the Brasilia has the bracelets, but the Pavillion is still by far the most impressive.
Nearly 300 tables and 3000 poker players, going at it. Still gives me the chills. The first time I walked in to this room in 2010, I got a similar feeling that I had experienced at the Great Wall of China, the Taj Majal and the Pyramids of Giza. Echoes of that still lingered in 2015, as I realized that every single table save for about a dozen set aside for high stakes cash games, was dedicated to one tournament.
That included tables down at the opposite end of the casino in the Rio's everyday regular poker room...
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| All the cash game players were kicked out at 9am to make way for Colossus players. |
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| Oh I'm sorry, did you need to eat? Too bad. |
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| There were in fact a few well known pros in the Colossus, including Greg Reymer and Antonio Esfandiari, and this guy Dan Heimiller, winner of last years WSOP Seniors event and a WPT champ as well. |
And so it was that my third table was the toughest of all, with nary a limper in sight. 3 bets abounded and my stack began to shrink as the blinds and antes ate away. I was a bit frustrated at my dearth of cards, even though I have long learned that it isn't cards I should be looking for, but rather spots.
I found what I thought was a good one with a baby ace in the highjack. UTG, who was one of the only passive players at the table, had limped. Another player who had been fairly active flat called to my right. With 12 bigs I happily let it rip. It folded around to the flat caller who hemmed and hawed and somehow found a call to my shove with 10-8.
Well he had a monster stack right? Wrong. He barely had me covered. How he found that call, to this day I will never know. I had not been particularly active, I had even shown pocket queens once.
A 10 in the window and that was it, I was walking the long halls of the Rio.
It was a great playing experience, and best of all I had made no colossal mistakes in the Colossus. I now had time to decompress a bit. I decided against playing a 7pm tournament in favor of picking up my old homie Noah at the airport, a dear friend who was the best man at my wedding.
We had a great time catching up and getting our grub on before heading back to T.I. and the ridiculous but fun lottery that is their 10pm tournament.
Saturday morning came a bit later than Friday morning had, which was great because I needed the rest. I meandered down to the Rio just before kickoff; and rather than firing another entry bullet (which I couldn't have anyways because it was sold out) I chose to rail my buds.
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| Noah in the Pavillion |
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| And Jason, trapped in the regular Rio Poker room. |
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| The Colossus - Colossally impressive. |
Noah managed to bust out before I could leave to go play poker elsewhere, so he joined me on a sojourn downtown.
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| Dorkus-Maximus |
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| Old school shiz... |
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| The closest Noah or I ever got to a 7 figure score. |
So I bid Noah adieu, but not before I saw this guy sit down at his table.
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| Yep, a line. |
Still, I got to sit down in the third level with over 50 bigs, which wasn't too bad. I dragged a few pots before stumbling with my top two pair losing to a set and me once again visiting my favorite town. Thankfully my opponent didn't just shove on me, I likely would've given him my whole stack.
And so, down to 15 bigs, I found a good spot to rip against a very active big stack. I was in the small blind with A10 and he had opened from the cutoff for the umpteenth time. This time though, he had queens. Oh well.
I finished off the night with another trip to T.I., though I was far too late in arriving to get into the tournament. I said goodbye to Noah and Jason, who had both failed to make day 2 in the Colossus, and headed for bed.
The flight out the next morning was uneventful and I was happy to be home with the fam.
I wish my results had been better on this trip, but I can honestly say that everything else was fantastic. If online poker somehow manages to become legal in California and then eventually the country, we are for sure headed into another poker boom.
The game to me seems almost as popular as it's ever been. Over 20,000 people played in the Colossus, and every other poker room I visited while it was going on was packed to the gills as well. Even better, even at my toughest table, the third table I sat at in the Colossus, I never felt intimidated in the least. Even in 2015, most people know how to play the game with only some amount of skill - there is a lot of profit to be made by playing aggressively and by paying attention as I know I can when I have had enough sleep and am in the right frame of mind.
So that said, when I return, maybe this year maybe next, I will do a better job of getting sleep the night before a big event, and I will schedule my return better in advance. This year I set my hotel and flight basically assuming that I would bust. Next year I'm scheduling my return on the day of the final table, so I'll be well into the money when and if I have to make any changes. I think this will help my mental state as well, as I don't think I was feeling competitive enough this time around. I also plan to fire multiple bullets like Jason did. Even though he failed to cash, he did get quite a bit farther than I did, and I know the multiple entries helped him play more aggressive and more effectively.
As for the looming Monster Stack in two weeks, I'm not sure if I'm going or not. That will all depend of course on family, job and other commitments - right now it is looking like about 50/50. We will see. In any case, I look forward to playing the Colossus again and again and again, as many years as they'll have it. I really think, despite the occasional wrinkles such as losing a few entry slips here and there (mine included) it could not have gone much better. We started on time, and the event, as 'Colossal' as it was - seemed to go exceptionally smooth.
Stay tuned, there may or may not be a part two.
Wednesday, April 15, 2015
Recompense
So the year has gone on, I've played a bit here and there and I want to play more and more as the World Series of Poker approaches.
I've got my eyeballs on two events - the first will take place on May 29th, it's the Colossus. Click on the word to learn all about it. What will likely be the largest poker tournament in history, with at least 5 million dollars in prize money up for grabs as well as of course a bracelet - all for the low low price of only $565.
As a piece of history, and with my wife and kiddo out of town, I don't know that I could forgive myself for missing this one. I have recently pre-registered, the first time in my life that I have ever done this, and because of this I will for sure be playing in a bracelet event for only the second time in my life come Memorial day weekend.
The second event that I'd very much like to play in, and am planning on it, is the Monster Stack, two weekends after the Colossus. This bad boy bracelet event gives players, for the low low price of $1500, an amazing structure and a HUGE amount of chips to go along with it. Last year the winner took home 1.3 milly. There is some serious cheddar at stake, not to mention WSOP history.
Both of these promise to be once in a lifetime poker playing opportunities, and I am excited and very much looking forward to them. But there is the matter of recompense.
I feel somehow that I owe something to someone, perhaps the poker gods, perhaps THE God, or perhaps simply myself.
Of the half dozen or so events that I've played since my last post, I haven't seen nary a wisp of a cash. I haven't gotten anywhere near the money, in anything. Well, okay, after checking my ledger I see that I min-cashed at Commerce in the middle of March, but my notes point out that save for a crucial flip early on, I lost every race and picked up zero premiums on the way to my $355 pay day.
Last week I held my annual WSOP satellite in my garage. 9 of us plunked down $170 each for a $1500 bracelet seat. The winner gets a seat in the event of his choice, but also has to share any winnings with the rest of the group 60/40.
Well I was the first one out. With nearly a hundred big blinds, I could not fold my KK to a five bet shove pre-flop. Of course my opponent had AA.
Lesson learned. Even though I rationalized it at the time, correctly stating that the villain was one of the more aggressive and capable players in the satty, it was truly a horrible call-off by me. As aggressive and maniacal as the craziest of players can be - they are still never bluffing with 100 bigs behind pre-flop, unless for some reason they want to light their entry fee on fire. Put it this way, this particular opponent, and 99 out of 100 others, would not have re-shipped KK to a cold four bet.
My opponent in this case, is able to play like a maniac on occasion, and is tough and aggressive, but he was never, ever bluffing there. I should've flatted his three bet instead of four betting him. Failing that (I'm okay with a four bet as he would likely 3 bet JJ, QQ or AK to my UTG raise) I should have for sure tanked at the very least and took a read, then I very likely could've found a fold and proudly mucked my kings face up.
Instead I got to sit around for 7 hours as the rest of the guys played down to the WSOP seat.
So, not my finest hour.
But even worse, was the night before. I played in the Bike Quantum, an absurd multi-flight re-entry tournament that nonetheless is a cheap way to get in a lot of hands.
For 6 hours I played very well. Accumulating despite a dearth of starting cards and managing to avoid the experienced players, who as usual multiplied as the bubble approached.
Just before we redrew to 2 tables, I had a bit of an implosion. I went from 45 bigs to less than 15 over the course of 3 hands. I tried to get clever, make moves, whatever, and simply missed the flops spectacularly and compounded my misfortune by refusing to let go until long after it was too late.
It was a long walk back to the car for me, I was very frustrated after I have been playing so well, to so foolishly spew off chips by losing patience.
So here is my promise as my recompense.
I vow to play as much as I can between now and the 29th, while still putting my family and job first of course - and in doing so I will also promise to not push things, to not get impatient and try to 'outplay' my opponents when either A) I have very little or no equity in the hand, either by virtue of crap cards, a whiffed flop or bad position OR B) I find myself against one or more experienced players who will give little fear or thought about tangling with me.
The latter was really my downfall the other night. I have recently taken great pride at being able to avoid trouble, or at least extract myself from it early on to minimize the damage. This last time, I was simply being stubborn against opponents that I knew damn well played in the Quantum at least 5 or 6 times a week. No reason for my ego to get in the way and hang on when deep down I knew I needed to let go and look for better spots.
Ah well, poker. Just when you think you've got it licked, it comes back and kicks you right in the jackpot.
So I am sorry, poker gods or whoever, and I promise to do better. I promise to sit back and let good cards come when it is time to do so. I promise to sniff out the weak and prey on them, and to avoid the larger wolves that inevitably arrive along with the bubble. I promise to be the great player that I know I can be - if I stay within myself, and see the forest for the trees; the big picture ahead.
Actually, two big pictures.
The biggest tournament on record, ever. And another tournament that is massive and awesome.
Can't wait.
I've got my eyeballs on two events - the first will take place on May 29th, it's the Colossus. Click on the word to learn all about it. What will likely be the largest poker tournament in history, with at least 5 million dollars in prize money up for grabs as well as of course a bracelet - all for the low low price of only $565.
As a piece of history, and with my wife and kiddo out of town, I don't know that I could forgive myself for missing this one. I have recently pre-registered, the first time in my life that I have ever done this, and because of this I will for sure be playing in a bracelet event for only the second time in my life come Memorial day weekend.
The second event that I'd very much like to play in, and am planning on it, is the Monster Stack, two weekends after the Colossus. This bad boy bracelet event gives players, for the low low price of $1500, an amazing structure and a HUGE amount of chips to go along with it. Last year the winner took home 1.3 milly. There is some serious cheddar at stake, not to mention WSOP history.
Both of these promise to be once in a lifetime poker playing opportunities, and I am excited and very much looking forward to them. But there is the matter of recompense.
I feel somehow that I owe something to someone, perhaps the poker gods, perhaps THE God, or perhaps simply myself.
Of the half dozen or so events that I've played since my last post, I haven't seen nary a wisp of a cash. I haven't gotten anywhere near the money, in anything. Well, okay, after checking my ledger I see that I min-cashed at Commerce in the middle of March, but my notes point out that save for a crucial flip early on, I lost every race and picked up zero premiums on the way to my $355 pay day.
Last week I held my annual WSOP satellite in my garage. 9 of us plunked down $170 each for a $1500 bracelet seat. The winner gets a seat in the event of his choice, but also has to share any winnings with the rest of the group 60/40.
Well I was the first one out. With nearly a hundred big blinds, I could not fold my KK to a five bet shove pre-flop. Of course my opponent had AA.
Lesson learned. Even though I rationalized it at the time, correctly stating that the villain was one of the more aggressive and capable players in the satty, it was truly a horrible call-off by me. As aggressive and maniacal as the craziest of players can be - they are still never bluffing with 100 bigs behind pre-flop, unless for some reason they want to light their entry fee on fire. Put it this way, this particular opponent, and 99 out of 100 others, would not have re-shipped KK to a cold four bet.
My opponent in this case, is able to play like a maniac on occasion, and is tough and aggressive, but he was never, ever bluffing there. I should've flatted his three bet instead of four betting him. Failing that (I'm okay with a four bet as he would likely 3 bet JJ, QQ or AK to my UTG raise) I should have for sure tanked at the very least and took a read, then I very likely could've found a fold and proudly mucked my kings face up.
Instead I got to sit around for 7 hours as the rest of the guys played down to the WSOP seat.
So, not my finest hour.
But even worse, was the night before. I played in the Bike Quantum, an absurd multi-flight re-entry tournament that nonetheless is a cheap way to get in a lot of hands.
For 6 hours I played very well. Accumulating despite a dearth of starting cards and managing to avoid the experienced players, who as usual multiplied as the bubble approached.
Just before we redrew to 2 tables, I had a bit of an implosion. I went from 45 bigs to less than 15 over the course of 3 hands. I tried to get clever, make moves, whatever, and simply missed the flops spectacularly and compounded my misfortune by refusing to let go until long after it was too late.
It was a long walk back to the car for me, I was very frustrated after I have been playing so well, to so foolishly spew off chips by losing patience.
So here is my promise as my recompense.
I vow to play as much as I can between now and the 29th, while still putting my family and job first of course - and in doing so I will also promise to not push things, to not get impatient and try to 'outplay' my opponents when either A) I have very little or no equity in the hand, either by virtue of crap cards, a whiffed flop or bad position OR B) I find myself against one or more experienced players who will give little fear or thought about tangling with me.
The latter was really my downfall the other night. I have recently taken great pride at being able to avoid trouble, or at least extract myself from it early on to minimize the damage. This last time, I was simply being stubborn against opponents that I knew damn well played in the Quantum at least 5 or 6 times a week. No reason for my ego to get in the way and hang on when deep down I knew I needed to let go and look for better spots.
Ah well, poker. Just when you think you've got it licked, it comes back and kicks you right in the jackpot.
So I am sorry, poker gods or whoever, and I promise to do better. I promise to sit back and let good cards come when it is time to do so. I promise to sniff out the weak and prey on them, and to avoid the larger wolves that inevitably arrive along with the bubble. I promise to be the great player that I know I can be - if I stay within myself, and see the forest for the trees; the big picture ahead.
Actually, two big pictures.
The biggest tournament on record, ever. And another tournament that is massive and awesome.
Can't wait.
Tuesday, January 6, 2015
Finishing Strong
Another year of teh pokerz has come and gone and once more I feel good. Actually, I feel better than good. I feel great.
2014 for me was the year that it all came together. The previous years and years of playing, studying, thinking - obsessing - about the game, the game that is No Limit Texas Hold-Em Tournament Poker; have just now, at the end of this year, finally started to pay off.
I have genuinely reached the point in my game when I can turn my brain off to a certain extent and relax - and let the mantra consume me. "See ball. Hit ball." I've reached the place that Roberto Clemente talked about - I've worked enough, studied enough, absorbed enough. The game is on, it's time to let go and let the training take over. See ball. Hit ball.
By letting the information flow naturally, not forcing it - I'm free to concentrate on yet more variables; especially live tells. I am more than ever, consciously trying to get into the head spaces of the players around me. I can concentrate on "taking a read" on an opponents demeanor. Is he comfortable? Is he happy? Tilted? Angry? I look at these things specifically, and let my training take over on the other stuff.
Bet sizing, betting tells, betting patterns - including previous hands and their patterns - these have all become second nature to me. So too has stack sizes, mine and my opponents, their commitment thresholds and mine. How much pressure to apply to get someone off a medium strength hand. Don't have to really think about this anymore. And so, armed with this recent automatic flow of information, I have become a formidable poker player in the tournament arena.
This last holiday, I played three tournaments in three days. Three tournaments, three cashes, including my first ever absolute and utter take down.
First up was the $120 nooner at the fabulous Hollywood Park Casino. It took me awhile to warm up, but once I did I was able to play well and slough off being utterly card dead and rather snake bit. I squeaked into a min-cash, a nice bubble safety that the regulars at HPC always push for.
The next day, it was the Bike nooner. A $55 freeze-out (with re-entries of course) that typically makes it's 2.5K guarantee easily. With 91 runners, this one was no exception.
Once again it was slow going to start - I got tangled in a couple of ill advised tussles, but emerged unscathed enough to accumulate chips in the doldrum mid stages. But by 'slow start' I don't mean I sat back and played patient. I have finally shaken off the incorrect notion that it is right to be tight in the opening stages of low entry tournaments. When it's $100 or less with a fast-ish structure and 20 minute levels, there is no time to wait.
In 90% of the tournaments I play in, I don't wait to get involved - I get active, quickly. Chip accumulation has to start early in these events; and I now know more than ever that even more important that actually gathering chips, is planting the seeds at the table so that everyone is thinking "Who the fuck is this guy? He watches too much TV. I'm going to get top pair and NEVER FOLD."
It is crucial, for this to work, that the table be passive. I find in the lower buy in events, this is almost always the case. I get active quick, so I can get to plundering - but as long as I am careful, it doesn't matter that I win every pot. It is important though that I show my busted bluffs and weak starting cards.
Then, once the image is built, as it was on day 2 for me - it is only a matter of time until I get all the chippies. A grumpy button had finally had enough with my three bets and four bet shoved over 60 bigs, I snapped with KK. He had A10 which didn't hit.
A similar hand happened later as the money approached. A different grouch, but he again had a middling Ace that he called with to my 3 bet shove with QQ. My hand held and I was in a very good spot at the final table.
Dan Harrington talks about the main two styles of play, Tight Aggressive (TAG) and Loose Aggressive (LAG), in his seminal 3 part bible on tournament poker. He himself plays and extolls the virtues and value of playing TAG. But his books, as magnificent as they still are, are geared to WSOP events or similar. Long levels, deep deep stacks and tables loaded with experienced grinders. The rest of us don't play these, we play the $55 daily where $40 NL retirees are sitting down for a change of pace and are hoping to see a flop.
In this kind of tournament, playing TAG will get you a whole heck of a lot of min-cashes, and a whole heck of a lot of busting out 2/3 of the way through the tournament with no money in sight. Most agonizing of all, when you do wake up with a rare premium hand, more often than not you won't get paid.
In my opinion, which is founded on 8 years of semi-serious tournament experience at this point, LAG is really the only way to play these things; especially if your table is older and more passive. I bet, bet, bet and bet again - hardly ever limping - until they can't stands it no more; and I use my post flop skills (the aforementioned "see ball, hit ball" state of mind) to minimize my losses and/or maximize my wins - and occasionally take pots away with the worst hand.
In this second tournament it was really starting to crystalize - as you can see by my stack above when it was final table time. I was third in chips and had my eyeball firmly planted on the 1K + first prize.
Unfortunately I boned a hand early on that knocked me down a bit. I likely had less than a dozen big blinds when we all agreed to chop and I took down a not too bad $380 in fourth position of six remaining players.
Anyways - the hand. A micro stack in EP shoved all for less than a big blind and got one caller right away. I justified a fairly bad call in the hijack with A5os. This was a pretty big mistake because then of course the cutoff, button and both blinds came along. Six players plus another already all in. Blech. A recipe for disaster.
Now here is where most recreational players would say "check it down" and knock out a player to climb up the ladder. Well my degenerate brain doesn't' really work that way. As the flop came, I knew the pot was bloated, a large amount of precious big blinds and antes now bubbled in a juicy side pot - ripe for the taking. The micro-stacked player that was all in had less than a big blind, matched 6 ways, in the main.
The flop came with an Ace and a Five and two cards to a flush. The first player checked to me, I jammed. Too much money out there to let someone catch up, I likely had the best hand and I was getting all those chippies now.
The cutoff and button grumpily folded. Doesn't this a-hole know to check it down?
The small blind tanked and tanked. Really dude? You're going to call off your tournament life with a flush draw? Yep. He did it. And yep, he had a monster draw - a gut shot and a six high flush draw.
The BB folded and the board ran out - he spiked his baby flush immediately on the turn of course, and I was not quite crippled, but powerless to play any real poker until the aforementioned deal a half hour later.
I of course got lectured on my bad play, by the remaining big stacks. "Dude, check it down and let him bust."
Right. And surrender all that side pot equity in favor of letting a micro stack hang around for another ten minutes. Good idea.
Anyways, I was back for more the following day, with my compatriot Cali Al in tow this time.
This time around we only had 80 entries, so the prize pool was smaller. Also, Cali and I were a bit early, so we were seated at the very first table, which was full of other strictly recreational players who likely play mostly in home games.
It was truly one of the more passive and genuinely brain damaged group I had ever sat down with. Friendly enough at least.
I immediately started with the shenanigans, and the bulk of the table was fed up after only two or three of my sloppy stabbings.
As always, I eschewed limping for three betting large. This really worked out early on when I three bet from the cutoff, nice and chunky and got four callers. I flopped top pair, it was checked to me and I c-bet nice and juicy. All but the big blind folded.
This big blind was a special kind of home gamer that I have run into before. ULTRA passive and loose, and believes that everyone is trying to bully her. Her instances of success mostly come from snapping off maniacs like myself.
I value bet the shit out of her on the turn when it blanked and shoved the apparently harmless river which she instantly called off all her chips with. "Uh-oh" I thought... "I may be in trouble here."
Nope. She had second pair and was crippled. I had doubled up.
I firmly believe I would never have gotten all of that cheddar if I hadn't been dicking around on earlier hands.
Fish may be fishy, but they are more than capable of pegging someone like me as a maniac very quickly, and will put their minds to looking me up at all costs. They very much go out of their way to get involved, usually out of position, against the guy who watches too much poker on TV. Thank goodness for this. It is one of the easiest ways to accumulate chips without premium hands early on in a tournament.
Speaking of dicking around. A few hands later my friend Cali, who was three seats to my right, slung an over sized chip in after a few limpers and then said "raise". The table had a good laugh at his expense; he's a very good player, but hasn't played live in almost two months and much longer than that since his last foray into a card room.
So I got to limp with my 72 in the small blind and smash two pair on the flop.
My fishy friend from earlier called my chunky donk bet on the flop, and Cali reluctantly folded his aces or kings. I then checked the blank turn and by God she did fire with over half her remaining chips. I happily shipped it and then she tanked.
So help me God, with 3/4 of her chips already in the pot, she had to think about it. She finally slid the chips in and turned up a wired pair of fives. My two pair held and she was gone. I silently stacked my chips as Cali stewed in his juices.
A while later, a swarthy fellow whom I've never seen in my life but played with hundreds of times sat down on my immediate right. He was the first of many more serious players that would eventually replace all the rec players at my table.
We got tangled up early. He limped, I three bet chunky. He apparently didn't get the memo, that if he called he was supposed to fold or call my c-bet. He check raise shipped on me, an absurd over bet that I unfortunately couldn't call with zip and pip. I couldn't help but smirk a little and say "Okay, let me think about it." as I turbo mucked. I then made a little "hmm" with a cocked head, yes I was a bit irritated at his pointless play, which would earn him the minimum in value and maximum in loss if I had hit. He picked right up on my aggravation and responded in a thick Eastern European accent...
"You watch too much TV."
Yes. Yes I do sir.
So I resolved to pretty much avoid him as there were still plenty of ripe targets.
Eventually Cali waited way to long to get to shoving and had zero fold equity when he finally did and lost his race.
Time passed and I had no choice but to play more snug as better and better players sat down.
Too much TV guy actually turned out to be super tight, he barely played a hand. Turned out he had likely shipped on me with a set or an overpair.
At some point a young buck sat in the empty seat between me and TV Guy. He was a motor mouth semi-pro who proceeded to pull a Chris Manzoni with everyone else, me included.
Only problem for him was, the second time he raised my big I had A10 and was never ever folding. I three bet him chunky-ish (more of a standard 3x the size of his raise 3 bet) and he flatted. The board came all low and he ripped. I snapped. He had me covered.
We both turned over the same hand. He was shocked at my call and said so. "Sorry dude, actual poker player in this seat..." I muttered. He smirked, relieved to be chopping, as was I.
So he mostly avoided me after that. He pillaged a bit, but was unable to climb back up by the time I three bet shoved on him with AQ and he called off with deuces. Terrible call that saw him bust and donate the rest of his bullets to me.
The money approached and I sat on a whole grip o' chips. With uber active motor mouth gone, I could get back on the stick, so to speak; and I found that my maniacal image was still intact as I took a few minor hits from non-believers. Then I woke up with KK and got it all in pre-flop when a sweaty regular decided it was time to take a stand with QJ.
Well done sir, you're doing it.
I know had well over 50 bigs, at a time when the avg. stack was closer to 15. Because I had just played this tournament the day before, I knew I could fold my way to the final table and still be healthy when I got there. This really took the pressure off of me to remain active, and yet I didn't allow myself to pass up juicy spots when they arose, and this is a big difference in my game that has only recently surfaced.
Time was, if I knew I was set to make the final table healthy, I literally would only play QQ or better, even open folding AK. Today, when I'm in the same spot, I let go and let the small ball fly when premium situations, not premium hands, arrive.
If it is folded to me and I'm in the hijack or later, and the targets are good - I will raise with any ace, any broadway cards, any pair, or even a suited gap connector. Then I rely on my post flop skills to extricate me from trouble; this means I don't hesitate to give up with multiple opponents, but I also don't hesitate to c-bet with a favorable board if I'm heads up with an opponent who has been defending light but then fitting and folding.
It was a beautiful 10 8 suited that boated up on the turn that saw me amass a huge double knock out against two recreational players who were not nearly as good as they thought they were. One of them stacked off with an over pair, JJ I believe, that he had flatted with pre-flop to my raise, and the other I believe had a flush draw that he was drawing dead with. I know for a fact I got both of these stacks merged into mine because I hadn't just folded up my tent to wait for the final table. I played maybe half a dozen hands in an hour - and because of this they likely both saw me as a maniac. It also didn't hurt that I had busted the guy who the entire table saw as the biggest maniac of all.
So with that double knock out, we were almost at the final table. Another loud mouth sat down on my right, spewed off half of his stack (unfortunately not to me) and then we were at our final 10.
I immediately looked around and saw that most players were short, and I was one of only 3 that was robust. I was also the chip leader. I proposed we look at the numbers. Loud mouth demurred and so we played on.
When we were at six he finally called for a chip count. He had dwindled, I had actually chipped up, just by virtue of walks and little resistance to my opening raises. With most of my opponents, when I opened a pot - we were playing for stacks right from the get go. So really, I was playing tight - I was only playing hands that I was willing to call a re-ship from the shorties. It worked beautifully.
The numbers were run... and with this stack...
I would collect $750. I happily agreed. Though it was $250 less than first place money, it was great to lock it up because one hand could change everything instantly. No one, myself included, was at all deep. I had around 25 bigs, hardly enough room to maneuver with any real poker skill involved.
Everyone else agreed to their lesser amounts, including loud mouth who was happy to get $330. Ship it!
All of my tournament poker playing career, I have longed to be That Guy at the table. The one who accumulates without good cards, the one who runs over other players with a smile and avoids dumping off large amounts of chips for no reason. Tuesday night, I WAS that guy.
And it felt great.
My ledger says I'm up almost 2K in profit, which is a fantastic feeling for someone who only plays tournaments. I'm very much looking forward to another year on the felt - hopefully I'll make the WSOP this year. At the very least I'll be heading out to Vegas for sure.
2014 for me was the year that it all came together. The previous years and years of playing, studying, thinking - obsessing - about the game, the game that is No Limit Texas Hold-Em Tournament Poker; have just now, at the end of this year, finally started to pay off.
I have genuinely reached the point in my game when I can turn my brain off to a certain extent and relax - and let the mantra consume me. "See ball. Hit ball." I've reached the place that Roberto Clemente talked about - I've worked enough, studied enough, absorbed enough. The game is on, it's time to let go and let the training take over. See ball. Hit ball.
By letting the information flow naturally, not forcing it - I'm free to concentrate on yet more variables; especially live tells. I am more than ever, consciously trying to get into the head spaces of the players around me. I can concentrate on "taking a read" on an opponents demeanor. Is he comfortable? Is he happy? Tilted? Angry? I look at these things specifically, and let my training take over on the other stuff.
Bet sizing, betting tells, betting patterns - including previous hands and their patterns - these have all become second nature to me. So too has stack sizes, mine and my opponents, their commitment thresholds and mine. How much pressure to apply to get someone off a medium strength hand. Don't have to really think about this anymore. And so, armed with this recent automatic flow of information, I have become a formidable poker player in the tournament arena.
This last holiday, I played three tournaments in three days. Three tournaments, three cashes, including my first ever absolute and utter take down.
First up was the $120 nooner at the fabulous Hollywood Park Casino. It took me awhile to warm up, but once I did I was able to play well and slough off being utterly card dead and rather snake bit. I squeaked into a min-cash, a nice bubble safety that the regulars at HPC always push for.
The next day, it was the Bike nooner. A $55 freeze-out (with re-entries of course) that typically makes it's 2.5K guarantee easily. With 91 runners, this one was no exception.
Once again it was slow going to start - I got tangled in a couple of ill advised tussles, but emerged unscathed enough to accumulate chips in the doldrum mid stages. But by 'slow start' I don't mean I sat back and played patient. I have finally shaken off the incorrect notion that it is right to be tight in the opening stages of low entry tournaments. When it's $100 or less with a fast-ish structure and 20 minute levels, there is no time to wait.
In 90% of the tournaments I play in, I don't wait to get involved - I get active, quickly. Chip accumulation has to start early in these events; and I now know more than ever that even more important that actually gathering chips, is planting the seeds at the table so that everyone is thinking "Who the fuck is this guy? He watches too much TV. I'm going to get top pair and NEVER FOLD."
It is crucial, for this to work, that the table be passive. I find in the lower buy in events, this is almost always the case. I get active quick, so I can get to plundering - but as long as I am careful, it doesn't matter that I win every pot. It is important though that I show my busted bluffs and weak starting cards.
Then, once the image is built, as it was on day 2 for me - it is only a matter of time until I get all the chippies. A grumpy button had finally had enough with my three bets and four bet shoved over 60 bigs, I snapped with KK. He had A10 which didn't hit.
A similar hand happened later as the money approached. A different grouch, but he again had a middling Ace that he called with to my 3 bet shove with QQ. My hand held and I was in a very good spot at the final table.
 |
| Over 175K at the final table in the Bike $55 daily. |
In this kind of tournament, playing TAG will get you a whole heck of a lot of min-cashes, and a whole heck of a lot of busting out 2/3 of the way through the tournament with no money in sight. Most agonizing of all, when you do wake up with a rare premium hand, more often than not you won't get paid.
In my opinion, which is founded on 8 years of semi-serious tournament experience at this point, LAG is really the only way to play these things; especially if your table is older and more passive. I bet, bet, bet and bet again - hardly ever limping - until they can't stands it no more; and I use my post flop skills (the aforementioned "see ball, hit ball" state of mind) to minimize my losses and/or maximize my wins - and occasionally take pots away with the worst hand.
In this second tournament it was really starting to crystalize - as you can see by my stack above when it was final table time. I was third in chips and had my eyeball firmly planted on the 1K + first prize.
Unfortunately I boned a hand early on that knocked me down a bit. I likely had less than a dozen big blinds when we all agreed to chop and I took down a not too bad $380 in fourth position of six remaining players.
Anyways - the hand. A micro stack in EP shoved all for less than a big blind and got one caller right away. I justified a fairly bad call in the hijack with A5os. This was a pretty big mistake because then of course the cutoff, button and both blinds came along. Six players plus another already all in. Blech. A recipe for disaster.
Now here is where most recreational players would say "check it down" and knock out a player to climb up the ladder. Well my degenerate brain doesn't' really work that way. As the flop came, I knew the pot was bloated, a large amount of precious big blinds and antes now bubbled in a juicy side pot - ripe for the taking. The micro-stacked player that was all in had less than a big blind, matched 6 ways, in the main.
The flop came with an Ace and a Five and two cards to a flush. The first player checked to me, I jammed. Too much money out there to let someone catch up, I likely had the best hand and I was getting all those chippies now.
The cutoff and button grumpily folded. Doesn't this a-hole know to check it down?
The small blind tanked and tanked. Really dude? You're going to call off your tournament life with a flush draw? Yep. He did it. And yep, he had a monster draw - a gut shot and a six high flush draw.
The BB folded and the board ran out - he spiked his baby flush immediately on the turn of course, and I was not quite crippled, but powerless to play any real poker until the aforementioned deal a half hour later.
I of course got lectured on my bad play, by the remaining big stacks. "Dude, check it down and let him bust."
Right. And surrender all that side pot equity in favor of letting a micro stack hang around for another ten minutes. Good idea.
Anyways, I was back for more the following day, with my compatriot Cali Al in tow this time.
This time around we only had 80 entries, so the prize pool was smaller. Also, Cali and I were a bit early, so we were seated at the very first table, which was full of other strictly recreational players who likely play mostly in home games.
It was truly one of the more passive and genuinely brain damaged group I had ever sat down with. Friendly enough at least.
I immediately started with the shenanigans, and the bulk of the table was fed up after only two or three of my sloppy stabbings.
As always, I eschewed limping for three betting large. This really worked out early on when I three bet from the cutoff, nice and chunky and got four callers. I flopped top pair, it was checked to me and I c-bet nice and juicy. All but the big blind folded.
This big blind was a special kind of home gamer that I have run into before. ULTRA passive and loose, and believes that everyone is trying to bully her. Her instances of success mostly come from snapping off maniacs like myself.
I value bet the shit out of her on the turn when it blanked and shoved the apparently harmless river which she instantly called off all her chips with. "Uh-oh" I thought... "I may be in trouble here."
Nope. She had second pair and was crippled. I had doubled up.
I firmly believe I would never have gotten all of that cheddar if I hadn't been dicking around on earlier hands.
Fish may be fishy, but they are more than capable of pegging someone like me as a maniac very quickly, and will put their minds to looking me up at all costs. They very much go out of their way to get involved, usually out of position, against the guy who watches too much poker on TV. Thank goodness for this. It is one of the easiest ways to accumulate chips without premium hands early on in a tournament.
Speaking of dicking around. A few hands later my friend Cali, who was three seats to my right, slung an over sized chip in after a few limpers and then said "raise". The table had a good laugh at his expense; he's a very good player, but hasn't played live in almost two months and much longer than that since his last foray into a card room.
So I got to limp with my 72 in the small blind and smash two pair on the flop.
My fishy friend from earlier called my chunky donk bet on the flop, and Cali reluctantly folded his aces or kings. I then checked the blank turn and by God she did fire with over half her remaining chips. I happily shipped it and then she tanked.
So help me God, with 3/4 of her chips already in the pot, she had to think about it. She finally slid the chips in and turned up a wired pair of fives. My two pair held and she was gone. I silently stacked my chips as Cali stewed in his juices.
A while later, a swarthy fellow whom I've never seen in my life but played with hundreds of times sat down on my immediate right. He was the first of many more serious players that would eventually replace all the rec players at my table.
We got tangled up early. He limped, I three bet chunky. He apparently didn't get the memo, that if he called he was supposed to fold or call my c-bet. He check raise shipped on me, an absurd over bet that I unfortunately couldn't call with zip and pip. I couldn't help but smirk a little and say "Okay, let me think about it." as I turbo mucked. I then made a little "hmm" with a cocked head, yes I was a bit irritated at his pointless play, which would earn him the minimum in value and maximum in loss if I had hit. He picked right up on my aggravation and responded in a thick Eastern European accent...
"You watch too much TV."
Yes. Yes I do sir.
So I resolved to pretty much avoid him as there were still plenty of ripe targets.
Eventually Cali waited way to long to get to shoving and had zero fold equity when he finally did and lost his race.
Time passed and I had no choice but to play more snug as better and better players sat down.
Too much TV guy actually turned out to be super tight, he barely played a hand. Turned out he had likely shipped on me with a set or an overpair.
At some point a young buck sat in the empty seat between me and TV Guy. He was a motor mouth semi-pro who proceeded to pull a Chris Manzoni with everyone else, me included.
Only problem for him was, the second time he raised my big I had A10 and was never ever folding. I three bet him chunky-ish (more of a standard 3x the size of his raise 3 bet) and he flatted. The board came all low and he ripped. I snapped. He had me covered.
We both turned over the same hand. He was shocked at my call and said so. "Sorry dude, actual poker player in this seat..." I muttered. He smirked, relieved to be chopping, as was I.
So he mostly avoided me after that. He pillaged a bit, but was unable to climb back up by the time I three bet shoved on him with AQ and he called off with deuces. Terrible call that saw him bust and donate the rest of his bullets to me.
The money approached and I sat on a whole grip o' chips. With uber active motor mouth gone, I could get back on the stick, so to speak; and I found that my maniacal image was still intact as I took a few minor hits from non-believers. Then I woke up with KK and got it all in pre-flop when a sweaty regular decided it was time to take a stand with QJ.
Well done sir, you're doing it.
I know had well over 50 bigs, at a time when the avg. stack was closer to 15. Because I had just played this tournament the day before, I knew I could fold my way to the final table and still be healthy when I got there. This really took the pressure off of me to remain active, and yet I didn't allow myself to pass up juicy spots when they arose, and this is a big difference in my game that has only recently surfaced.
Time was, if I knew I was set to make the final table healthy, I literally would only play QQ or better, even open folding AK. Today, when I'm in the same spot, I let go and let the small ball fly when premium situations, not premium hands, arrive.
If it is folded to me and I'm in the hijack or later, and the targets are good - I will raise with any ace, any broadway cards, any pair, or even a suited gap connector. Then I rely on my post flop skills to extricate me from trouble; this means I don't hesitate to give up with multiple opponents, but I also don't hesitate to c-bet with a favorable board if I'm heads up with an opponent who has been defending light but then fitting and folding.
It was a beautiful 10 8 suited that boated up on the turn that saw me amass a huge double knock out against two recreational players who were not nearly as good as they thought they were. One of them stacked off with an over pair, JJ I believe, that he had flatted with pre-flop to my raise, and the other I believe had a flush draw that he was drawing dead with. I know for a fact I got both of these stacks merged into mine because I hadn't just folded up my tent to wait for the final table. I played maybe half a dozen hands in an hour - and because of this they likely both saw me as a maniac. It also didn't hurt that I had busted the guy who the entire table saw as the biggest maniac of all.
So with that double knock out, we were almost at the final table. Another loud mouth sat down on my right, spewed off half of his stack (unfortunately not to me) and then we were at our final 10.
I immediately looked around and saw that most players were short, and I was one of only 3 that was robust. I was also the chip leader. I proposed we look at the numbers. Loud mouth demurred and so we played on.
When we were at six he finally called for a chip count. He had dwindled, I had actually chipped up, just by virtue of walks and little resistance to my opening raises. With most of my opponents, when I opened a pot - we were playing for stacks right from the get go. So really, I was playing tight - I was only playing hands that I was willing to call a re-ship from the shorties. It worked beautifully.
The numbers were run... and with this stack...
 |
| Over a quarter million in chips - my biggest stack in recent memory. |
Everyone else agreed to their lesser amounts, including loud mouth who was happy to get $330. Ship it!
All of my tournament poker playing career, I have longed to be That Guy at the table. The one who accumulates without good cards, the one who runs over other players with a smile and avoids dumping off large amounts of chips for no reason. Tuesday night, I WAS that guy.
And it felt great.
My ledger says I'm up almost 2K in profit, which is a fantastic feeling for someone who only plays tournaments. I'm very much looking forward to another year on the felt - hopefully I'll make the WSOP this year. At the very least I'll be heading out to Vegas for sure.
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