Run Good, Play Good, Feel Better

So I did something the other week that I had only done once before, and when I had done it, I knew right away it was a mistake.

I went to HPC after work.

It's so tempting, the casino is a mere 20 minutes south of my office; the evening tournaments are $100 no-rebuys and the field is generally pretty soft. This night was no exception, as spread out over the two tables was perhaps overall the worst playing bunch I've ever encountered at Hollywood Park. I only recognized one or two regulars, the rest were NLHE home game schmucks like me.

But what should have been a fun evening of donkey owning, was instead a bleary and frustrated slog of even worse play on my part. And the best part is, when I busted after overplaying AK to a wannabe (you know the type, dirty and douchey) instead of calling it a night, I reregistered at a point just before the break when a starting stack was barely 30 big blinds. Big mistake.

The crux of it all was, after working for 9 hours, sedentary though my job is; I was in no shape whatsoever for the concentration that successful tournament poker play demands, despite the brain damage level of the players around me. The 730pm tournament is a big waste of time and money for me, and I should have known better - as I had the same experience at HPC almost 3 years ago. In fact, I shouldn't say "in spite" of the brain damaged players, I should probably say I was tilted because of the bad play. I got very frustrated, knowing I was probably the best player at the table, and yet I couldn't accumulate whatsoever, while the luck-boxes seemed to hit every 3 outer despite their ridiculous bet sizing and read-deficient play.

Oh yeah, and I stuck it in at the end with an open ended straight and got called by a four flush that promptly binked it on the turn.

There are two parts to this failure - 1, I was tired. and 2, because I was tired I didn't have fun. And not having fun at HPC is probably the worst sin of all, because if you're not having fun, you're putting yourself in a place of utter misery and degeneracy that will inevitably permeate every pore in your body if you let it.

Resolution; no evening weekday tournaments, ever!

On the flip side, when I come home, and my angel is in bed and I've hit the elliptical machine and am showered and relaxed - sitting down for Flatline (which this spring is FlatWorld - we're playing for a World Series of Poker seat) is actually a pretty great way to enjoy the evening.

I always try to play for fun when I play poker online with friends, and now PokerStars has made this even easier with their new "Home Games" option. We have set up our own online poker club, and now we have the one of the two best software clients in the world running our little operation - it's slick, it's cool and it's something I'll be looking forward to every week.

So last night was pretty awesome, because I not only played well, my shifting gears was especially in tune - I could be a maniac or a rock, depending on the stacks and level, but for once when I got it in (which actually wasn't too many times) I always got it in good, AND (most importantly) my better hands actually held up.

Particularly satisfying was my Ad10d call of a shove pre-flop by a long time player in the league who tilts me with his passive play and under bet sizing who had a third of my stack - he flipped up KQ and promptly hit the flop, But there was a diamond, and then another one on the turn and finally a beautiful blue diamond on the river. He was incredulous in the chat box over my "runner-runner" but he was also oblivious that he had gotten it in behind and spiked a six outer on the flop. Whateves. I happily pounded "GG" into the chat box and never looked back.

Actually, I had been stealing from the correct targets all tournament long. Raising from the button, cutoff or hijack with absolute trash. Then, if I got a caller, c-betting with the correct targets and check folding with the wrong ones. It was greatly to my benefit that at the first table I had three of the tightest players in the league to my left, thankfully one of the stronger players busted early on.

It was probably when we got 5 handed when I realized that if I could just avoid getting hugely unlucky (get someone dominated and lose) or coolered (my premium running into a bigger premium) that this tournament was mine for the taking. All the better players were long gone. The best of the remaining was my only real concern, and thankfully he fell into my trap when we got three handed by fighting back to my merciless raises at the wrong time when I actually had a hand.

So then I was heads up with a relatively new player to the bunch; he seemed really nice and we had a pleasant little chat, but he couldn't stand up to aggression. I pillaged him over and over, literally raising every single hand from the button, and thankfully, when he finally got around to fighting back I could call off light and lose and not be damaged whatsoever. My KQ ran into his AQ and it didn't even matter, three button raises later we were back to where we started. He simply didn't get that I absolutely couldn't have it every time. He would fold and fold and fold. But even better, he didn't grasp that with the blinds so big, EVERY pot he lost was crucial - he thought he could wait for a monster, problem was though, when he did get one it was super obvious and I could either get away or as I said, call off light and have a chance at sucking out on him without any real risk.

I had KQ on the button again, raise - AGAIN, and he'd had enough, he shoved his 6K into my 40K and I once again snap called. He had K3 suited and that was all she wrote.

Now if he had been shoving much earlier on with K3 instead of waiting until it was far too late, the evening might have turned out differently. But I had been watching him for much of the night, and he was very predictable, when he missed a flop he would check, if I checked behind he would min-bet the turn with nothing. If I c-bet he would call with a draw, if a scare card didn't come on the turn I could fire a big bet with nothing and he would go away (this happened probably half a dozen times).

I hope to see a lot more of him and all the other profitable players as our quest for a WSOP seat continues. The stronger players, not so much! But whoever I face, I hope I can mix it up enough to be deceptive and also be able to put people on hands. Last night was also a particularly good evening for the former - one guy (a solid but probably too tight player) and another (who has great instincts, but is shaky on the math) in particular were playing me with their cards face up. I even managed to get the second dude off a better hand than what I had - which is a first for me with him.

Good times.

Holiday Foolishness

Found time for two tournaments in Las Vegas while on vacation this last week.

This first was an afternoon Aria - for the money probably the second best daily in Vegas, the first being the Venetian only because it's prize pool is typically twice as big as Aria's.

For $125 you get 8000 in chips (as opposed to the V's 7000), half hour levels and a structure that actually has a semblance of reason to it.

Surprisingly, much to my delight - my brother in law tagged along, he of the whine and complaining to the poker Gods who has been mentioned in this blog more than once. Needless to say, I was shocked at his desire to join me in my degeneracy, but pleased. I tried to get a reason out of him on the way over, but the best I could manage was that he considered it "poker lessons". Fine. So do I. Hopefully he'll come around back home and get back to playing in my game!

Even with 69 entrants, we somehow found ourselves at the same table. Yay! Poker is more fun with companionship. Even if the companion turns around and spanks you on occasion.

On the third hand the companion I mentioned, lead out with a raise in early position. I flatted from the button with J10. My implied odds with him had to be good here, if I hit big he would be very reluctant to release with an overpair (which is what I put him on, he is a SUPER tight player). We were the only two in the pot and took a flop of 10 J x.

He led out a little less than half the pot. I called. I was putting him on kings, queens, aces or AK. If he had hit a set with Jacks or Tens I would think he would trap, though in hindsight his line here was absolutely correct with a player like me.

The turn came a blank and he fired again, this time the same amount which was now less than a quarter of the pot. Irresistible with my two pair. I called, and thankfully resisted the urge to three bet him.

The river was an ace, a yucky card for me because now he had a monster if he had bullets and if for some reason he was playing a wonky draw it just got there.

He lead out with the same (now teeny amount). I at this point knew my hand was likely no good - subconsciously I had put it together that he was sitting on a big hand (either already made or hit on the river), but it would have been 100% incorrect to fold with 10 to 1 odds even if I somehow could know what he had.

I paid him off and he showed flopped trip tens.

As I said, he played it perfectly against an aggressive but suspicious player like me, I likely would have slowed down had he check called me on the flop and he would have lost value on the turn. His line extracted probably the most he could have gotten from me so early in a deep stacked tournament. I congratulated him later, I'm not sure if he was fully aware at how well he had taken me down to value town.

The second hand of note occurred a couple of orbits later - I had QQ UTG+1 and fired a standard x3BB raise. The button called me and the big blind defended.

Flop was 993. BB checked, I bet just over half the pot. The button min-raised me. I had pegged him based on looks alone as one of these guys who severely overrates himself as a poker player - and I was ready to get it all in with him. If he had a nine or pocket threes then so be it, but he wasn't getting me off my queens with his random Ace or face cards or medium pair.

Then the big blind flat called. I had seen enough of this guy already to know he wasn't very good, but I also knew that he wouldn't have simply called unless he was super strong.

I stopped and thought. And thought, and thought.

I folded.

The turn was a 7. The big blind bet 2/3 of the pot. The button simply called with a blank expression. I read weakness.

The river was a Jack. The big blind shoved.

The button, who was an early big stack and had the bb covered by a considerable amount, tanked for a good minute and a half and finally called.

The BB turned over 97.

The button looked disgusted and mucked.

Who knows what the button had, but I am pretty much certain that on the flop I was either crushed or way ahead of him. I was willing to go for the latter if the BB hadn't intervened. Thank goodness he did, and I didn't have to find out some sad news.

The rest of the afternoon was uneventful, I played for over 2 more hours and really was pretty card dead - not to mention that there were enough players who knew what they were doing so I couldn't get out of line to my liking.

With 12 big blinds left and antes about to kick into super high gear, I open shoved with AA from mIddle position. No action.

A couple of hand later I had AK at UTG+1. I stuck it in once more. This time, the same big blind, who had turned into a luck sack and a monster chip leader called me down, he had pocket tens. He promptly binked trips on the flop. Of course I had a nice and gross turn and river with a King and an Ace respectively. Nothing like hitting cards when you're drawing dead.

It was fun, it was all good. No major mistakes and a great way to spend the afternoon. Dave G., my brother-in-law, busted out shortly thereafter (I rightly assured him that he got unlucky when his x5 BB shove of KQ ran into kings) and he seemed pleased as well. He had fun, for this was his first time in a real poker room tournament.

I was proud that my little home game had trained him well for proper etiquette, and except for a few funny times where he forgot to give his cards back after he dragged a pot, I'm sure no one around the table suspected that he was a card room virgin.

So I thought that was to be all that she wrote for poker over the holidays. I was having a great time with my family, especially my little girl, who is about the most perfect and sweetest kid on the planet. On our last full day we went to the Vegas Springs Desert Zoo and Ecology Center, which had fun interactive exhibits for her and her two boy cousins to enjoy. Then we saw the movie "Tangled" at the Orleans, which kind of blew me away at how good it was.

Darkness was falling, time to go home. But wait. We're at the Orleans! There's 7pm poker tournaments here! And it's Omaha night! Good thing we brought two cars!

Once again I entered the lions den (I say that because despite the great structures, low buy ins and predictable players I have yet to cash in an Orleans tournament after playing in nearly a dozen of them) and ponied up $75 for 7500 chips and the fixed limit tournament madness of Omaha Eight or Better High-Low.

As I really consider myself dead money in such an event (not to mention that fixed limit O8 is VERY card dependent) I had next to zero pressure on my shoulders (save for the not-cashing monkey that I confess did chatter in the back of my brain on occasion).

So I had a blast.

Then this hand happened.

After nearly 3 hours, and a few ups and downs, including 2 very unlikely double ups after I went in blind - I had just below average in chips which actually left me quite a bit of room to maneuver in this fixed limit format.

I looked down at A J 10 9, with 3 limpers behind and a passive table this was an easy call.

The flop came 78Q. Then, maybe it was because the hour was late, or because I was feeling the onset of a cold, or maybe someone nearby was smoking crack and I got a contact high, but my brain told me - "I flopped the nuts. But that could change, I must be careful."

Of course, as anyone who plays Omaha/8 knows, I did not have the nuts. I had nothing, but a good draw, a gut-shot wrap.

And in fact, I had experienced what everyone who plays Omaha/8 experiences at one time or another - I had simply neglected to recognize that you can ONLY play 2 from your hand and 3 on board. ONLY.

I checked, a short stack bet, 2 other callers. I thought, long and hard (still painfully oblivious that I didn't have a hand yet) before deciding to check raise. This was a large amount of my stack at this point, and even in my land of delusion I knew this was committing me to the hand.

The short stack stuck the rest of his chips in (all 2 of them, not even a full bet amount). One caller folded. The other reluctantly called.

The turn was a king - I didn't even look or care because I knew a big bet of mine was going in no matter what. This was correct, wether I had made a hand or not, because the other active player tanked FOREVER before finally folding his two pair face up.

I at this point realized with horror that I didn't have a made hand yet. And zero draw to a low. All I had was ace high. I needed any of the cards in my hand to hit to make a straight. If I hit an Ace or a Jack I would have broadway.

The river was a 4.

I had ace high.

The all in short stack had a low straight. The player that I had raised out on the turn was incredulous. I fessed up immediately that I had misread my hand. He took my explanation and apology surprisingly well, considering he was a swarthy loud mouth Orleans codger.

Thankfully, I wasn't busted. I got the side pots 2 big bets besides mine, plus a smallish chunk of the main since the short stack couldn't call my check -raise fully.

But 2/3 of my chips were gone like the wind, because my brain decided to check out for about 2 streets of poker.

I shortly was moved thereafter and busted in a sickening fashion.

I stuck in my chips with A3QQ in a three way all in pot pre-flop.

I was up against a short stack that I covered slightly who had A Q 10 7 and a big stack who called off light with J 10 5 6.

Flop was 3J8.

Turn was an 8.

River was a Jack.

Nice two out bink sir. Well done.

I admit, I was pretty steamed as I stomped out - but inwardly, I was mostly mad at myself for simply not paying attention at the previous table.

Poker is hard enough when you are paying attention. To be sober and only a little bit tired and not recognize what hand I had - that sucks pretty hard. Ah, well. It was still fun in the grand scheme - and as always, I can't wait to get back to my favorite poker town.

Oh, and by the way - I realize I forgot to post about my last two forays at HPC.

Sunday, December 19th, both my girls (wife and daughter) had plans together and I wasn't invited, so I played in the Sunday $40 rebuy 10K guarantee. As usual, I didn't cash - and then as usual, I enrolled in the 4:30pm $100 second chance tourney where I did make the money. I took down 5th place for $495.

The following week I got out of work early (since the office was empty and there was nothing to do) on the 23rd and played the $35 rebuy at 1130am on December 24th and took 7th for $425! Two tournament sessions, two cashes! Not too shabby!

I'd say patience, more than anything, helped me squeak into the money in both tournaments. Not to mention a fair amount of luck, especially in the first tourney. The sickest was this one.

I was in the BB with almost a third of my chips already committed. I had played for over 7 hours (having already busted out of the big Sunday 10K) and was disgusted at my lack of playable cards and committed to throwing in the rest of my chips blind. To let the big and small pass through me would simply be too devastating, at that point even if I did double or triple up I would still be in the dead zone.

So from the big blind I threw in my remaining composite clay after UTG +3 limped and the cutoff raised. They both called my less than legal raise and the main pot was a decent size. I still didn't know what I had.

The flop was a red 10 8 4.

Check - check, went the two active players.

The suspense was killing me.

I peeked. I had 8 4.

Despite an ill advised river bet by the cutoff, which got called down by a better King high - my hand held up for the main pot and I had more than tripled up when antes were factored in!

Sometimes, well, actually, all the time - it's better to be lucky than good!

Overall, as far as my memory can tell (I really should write soon after I play) on both afternoons, I didn't have any major blunders and did about as well as I could have considering the cards that I caught. I do know that I didn't have any monster screw ups like laying down a set to a check raise (as I did last time at HPC) - so that itself (not to mention over $600 in profit) was more than good enough for me.

I'm very much looking forward to 2011, including my first home game this Saturday.

I'll post my inner most thoughts on this in a little while, but for now you can always catch up on what's going on at Pepper Street Poker by clicking here.

Vegas Bender 2010.2

The trip was a phenomenal success in every way that mattered - except for my results.

I returned home down just over $400. I cashed in 2 out of the 9 tournaments I played, which is actually a very good percentage for these things. Unfortunately both cashes were min-cashes in minor events.

The good news, I learned a lot and had a blast. Best of all, it was just my brother and I, so we had a lot of time to just hang, chat and catch up. He even took me to the fabulous fitness center at the Orleans and showed me how to use a few weight lifting machines for the first time in my life, so now I have zero excuse for not going to the gym.

It all started on a Thursday at the Orleans. One of these days I'm going to cash at this place - the tournaments are structured superbly, the room is run well, everything about it is great - but the clientele is a bit too seasoned to make the room profitable for me.

I'm not saying I was outclassed, but probably the majority of players that sat around me each had more live hours than I did. And they were also nits - meaning they rarely spewed, frequently folded unless they had the goods and were very skilled at value betting me to death.

My first tournament, the $75 nooner, was over in a couple of hours. I didn't have many cards to work with, and the occasional pocket pair I did get amounted to nothing after the flop. I finally got it in pre-flop around 15 big blinds with AJ and ran into AK.

The good news was, I went and saw Jackass 3D at the outstanding Orleans movie theater. Good times, and a most excellent film, replete with fecal matter and genital smashing mayhem. All in eye-popping high speed camera 3D!

After a surprisingly disappointing dinner burger at Fuddruckers I signed up for the $75 7pm Omaha/8 tournament!

This was a lot of fun, and I was surprised at how deep I made it. Levels got pretty painful about 3 hours in, when I flopped a boat and a draw to the nut low. I had A532, the board read 5A5. I fired out on every street and got called down by a fellow with AJ who naturally spiked a fish hook on the river after a meaningless queen on the turn.

I wasn't busted on this hand, but crippled, and out shortly thereafter. I was lightly steamed, but happy to have been so far ahead of a 3 outer who wasn't even drawing to the low end himself.

The next morning I sprang out of bed bright and early and headed down to the Monte Carlo for their $50 9am tournament.

As I mentioned in my pre-Vegas post, this place has absolutely terribly structured tournaments - super turbos - but a very friendly staff and an ultra-mellow early morning vibe that make it a fun place to practice poker.

Turned out, it was also a profitable place on this particular morning. Honestly, there wasn't one regular, or even a serious recreational player in the whole bunch of four tables. There was a chip splashing British gentleman who was running like a God, but thankfully had zero clue about bet sizing and c-betting. I looked forward to getting it in with him crushed, but it turned out I didn't need to, there were so many other spectacularly bad players that I accumulated just by three and c-betting in the right spots and getting people to fold. When these guys and gals had nothing, they folded. When they hit a piece, they called to the death - which was great if I had two pair or better. I value bet one poor lady into oblivion on two separate hands.

The big one was as such. Blinds low, my stack at about average. Four limpers, I'm on the button with pocket 7's. When in Rome, right? I had been three betting big to isolate, but with only mixed results. This time I limped behind.
Flop was 7 A x. Lady in middle position min-bet. Folded to me, I three bet her with a pot sized raise. Folded to her, she called.

Turn was a Q. She checked. I bet 1/2 of the pot. Call. River was a Queen. She checked. I bet slightly bigger than half the pot. She hemmed and hawed for about 20 seconds. Then called me with AJ. Good times.

Before I knew what had happened, I was in the money with three players. I stuck in my stack with pocket kings and the good natured Brit called me with a baby Ace. We all know the end to this story.

I cashed for $220 - up $20 total so far.

Then it was on to playing with the big boys at the Venetian $150 nooner.

This was a great day. I played for 6 hours.

Early on I had some fun, made some pretty good reads including...

One limper to me on the button - I had kings. I popped it to x5 the bb. The small blind, a friendly but a bit red-neckish out of towner who I could tell fancied himself a "pretty good" poker player, whined in a good natured way about me picking on his blinds and defended. The big blind and the limper folded.

Flop came A A 4. He checked. I c-bet a little less than 1/2 the pot. He Hollywooded a bit before calling, with a big chunk of his stack. I'm done with this hand.

Turn was a blank. He checked. I checked.

River was a face card (I think) - he went into his act and then a speech and then shoved. I insta-folded my kings face up and he was incredulous - "Wow! Man, that is a good fold!" he grinned and showed his A10 proudly. A quiet Asian fellow, who I'd pegged as a regular across the table nodded gently in my direction "Good laydown" he murmured. Pretty obvious, but it still felt good to know that I've at least progressed to the point where I can quickly fall out of love with seductive cowboys and read a rube donkey as if his cards were face up.

Later, I got a bit dry on good starting cards, and the table was simply too experienced for me to get out of line much.

I did get a regular off of his top pair, when I raised a suited connecter from the cutoff that blanked on the flop. "I give you much respect" he said as he showed me his paired ace in the face of my 3 bet to his donk bet. I was a bit off kilter, because I couldn't seem to hit a flop to save my life, and I was lucky that he had enough years at the table to release top pair so quickly.

After the third break, my stack was hovering at around 15 big blinds. I looked down at UTG +1 at Jacks. I stuck it in.

The cutoff tanked for a little bit and then just called (which I knew was a mistake on his part, it committed him to the hand with other bigger stacks still left to act behind him). The button folded and the small blind shoved. It came back to Mr. Cutoff moron and he hemmed and hawed forever before finally calling off his stack entire with AK. The small blind also had AK.

Sounds crazy, but it's true. The flop came AKJ. The turn and river were baby x's and I had tripled up.

Now I was okay, at just under 50 bigs. A short while later I had jacks again. I popped it from middle position.

It folded around to a short stack who shoved, then to the now crippled small blind from the other three way hand who was now the big blind. She also shoved. I had both of them covered substantially. Easy call.

The big blind had AK, the late position short stacker had a pair of tens.

She spiked a ten on the flop. I binked the case jack (as I found out from the another player who said he had J5) on the river.

Easy game.

I felt good as we approached the dinner break. 25 players - they paid 18.

At this point with another hour and big blinds and antes bleeding me a bit, my stack was around 60 big blinds, I was happy to fold to the money, which paid $350 for 18th place. With the departure of the two short stacked females, I was the lone fish left in the tank. I promised myself that I would not play any hands until I reached the moolah - with the exception of aces or kings. If I had the opportunity to get it all in pre-flop with either hand, I would unhesitatingly do so.

Careful what you wish for.

In hindsight, I guess it does actually seem obvious. The one guy at the table who was a bit older, pretty nitty, and fancied himself God's gift to poker - min-raised my standard raise from early position when I looked down at kings. With anyone else, I'd say this was an easy shove. Most of the table knew how to play NLHE with aggression, and had routinely 3 bet light. This guy, not so much, though I do recall a hand where he got it in bad with KQ against AK and sucked out - but still.

One day I will be a world class player and be able to fold my cowboys pre-flop against the eccentric codger who plays transparently with his rockets. But not this day. I stuck it in and fast rolled my kings when he called, he then actually stalled and for dramatic effect (though I confess I knew before his cards hit what he had) slow rolled me a bit with his aces.

"Classy" I thought to myself as the board rolled off harmlessly and his bullets held. This pathetic excuse for a person, not a horrible poker player by any means, pulled out a toy geiger counter and held it over the cards as they came out. He was, it turns out, "The Toy Man" and had a whole duffel bag full of props that he liked to employ at times. I'd never heard of him. "Is that really necessary?" was all I could muster. Other players shook their heads in disgust at his antics. I walked off in silence and within about 5 minutes I felt sorry for him.

Not so sorry for myself. As the famous whale Tony G. says in his unmistakable Aussie accent "You gotta haave haaaaartt!"

And I really believe that, as a poker player, as a gambler, it is necessary to see the forest for the trees, that it does little good to second guess yourself over obvious situations. I planned it ahead of time - if I had aces or kings and could shove pre, I was doing so. I ran into a 1 out of 222 situation, only six combinations of cards, combined with my own 1 out of 222 holdings.

The only part that really hurt was getting so close to being up over $300 for the trip. I skipped on the Mirage bounty, as my brother's flight was delayed because Obama was coming to town. I had a big ass Ruben at the Carnagie deli and it was good, though impossible to finish.

The good Dr. David met up with me and we sauntered over to Treasure Island for the $50 10pm donkament.

This was probably the most fun I had all trip with poker - what a good natured blast this room is. Again, like the Monte Carlo, a shit structure - but great dealers, a truly smoke free environment and plenty of drunken fish to exploit.

No hands of note leap into my mind, though I know I was down to four big blinds at some point (not unusual in a turbo) and managed to wake up with aces and have them hold up in a multi-way pot.

When I sat down to the final table, I was slightly below average, but not desperate even though the blinds were huge. Across from me sat the chip leader - the good Doctor.

It was an amazingly bad batch of players we found ourselves among - standard raises with less than 10bb's abounded. Call with 60% of your stack pre-flop and fold to the c-bet? Naturally. I was truly amazed, and managed to shove a couple of times, once with queens and get looked up and paid with marginal holdings from comparable stacks.

Finally the bubble burst, and I believe I was second or third out after the money. My rags shove got called by Q6 (not a bad call) and I hit the rail booking just under $150 for 4th or 5th place.

Doctor Dave had a sizable chip lead when it went to heads up between him and another recreational player - he got unlucky and ran into a set of sevens which basically rendered him even with his opponent. They chopped first and second, for almost $700 each. Nice.

So Dave was free-rolling on his entry fees, and I was feeling great about my game so far.

I was comfortable as a short stack, comfortable with chips, comfortable among tourists and regulars at the Venetian.

Tomorrow was going to be a great day. And it was. Just not great in the conventional sense.

After my brief and slightly terrifying experiment with the Orleans fitness center, made much easier to bear by the good Doctor, we headed off to the fantabulous Aria for the excellently structured $125 1pm tournament.

I played my best poker so far.

My table was a nice mix of regulars and semi-serious recreational players. With plenty of ammo early on I could speculate, 3 bet and accumulate to my hearts content. There were a couple of crafty old nits who were gold mines - I swear this one guy on my left, all he ever played was Aces and Kings. He called me all the way to the river with his cowboys, and I knew my two pair was good for a nice visit to value town.

4 hours later, my brother busted, two hours after that I was at the final table of 9. They paid 7.

Once again, I looked down at jacks in early position. As the short stack at the table, this was an easy one - in went the chips.

It folded to a codger who I found out later played in this tournament 5 days a week. He asked for a count. He looked concerned. Finally he called. A bit over dramatic, I thought, but at least we're probably racing. Hopefully he has tens and not queens.

I turned up my jacks, he turned up bullets.

I was mad for what I thought was a slow roll - and when he showed I know I said something stupid - stupid because I realized after the board came out (and I hit a gut wrenching straight to crack his aces) that he was smart to act weak with so many big stacks behind him. I disagree with his only calling my bet, regardless of how he behaved he should have shoved, but I agree with his antics - his stack was not healthy enough to be assured of big money. The best case scenario for him was to get it all in in a three-way pot pre-flop by inducing a squeeze. Though he would be significantly less of a favorite, if his rockets held he would have a big ass stack - and that's where the real money is.

"Merry Christmas" he grunted as I raked the chips. I ignored him as I realized it was I who was out of line, for even saying anything to him in the first place. Mum poker is the only poker when you're playing in a big room in a big tournament. Very dumb of me to let his "slow roll" (which was nothing of the sort) get to me.

Not as dumb as 3 hands later.

AQ in early position. I know have enough for a standard raise. So I do it. (Mistake #1 - at a table of regulars and good recreational players, I need to let this go.) Even older and crustier codger flats. Our stacks are close.

Flop comes 225. I check, with the intent of giving up. (Mistake #2 - a minor one, check is okay if I truly am giving up, but as we'll see...)

Turn is a King. Perfect scare card, right? Not really, but then I make the biggest mistake (#3) and c-bet. Now a third of my chips are in the pot. He flats. I'm an idiot.

I don't remember the river, but it was a blank. I shove. Mistake #4 - but the smallest mistake of all. He tanks, FOREVER, and finally, finally, finally makes an excellent call with KJ.

I can get mad at his marginal call. I can get mad at him making the correct decision to look me up with TP mediocre kicker. But this hand, as Jimmy Buffett says, is my own damn fault. Entirely.

Our stacks are close, but he has me covered. I stagger out. What the fuck just happened?

For the first time in live poker, I truly imploded.

I still contend that my biggest mistake was my c-bet, even though if he doesn't have a king he is likely folding - by making this bet I am committing to the hand and sticking it in on the river no matter what card comes. And I'm doing it against an old codger who probably grew up playing limit poker and probably has more hours at the table than I do living my entire life.

He made a good call, though I take some solace that even for him it was a tough one.

After this monstrosity of a finish, I was not in the right frame of mind for poker, though I was anxious to get back on the horse - and I unsurprisingly busted out quickly of the $80 7pm Mirage bounty tournament. It was hilarious table of home game fish though, and I know I would have made a deeper run had my brain been in the right place.

As my brother and I food courted it back at the Orleans, I began to digest what I had done, and for the first time could truly see the positives.

Every serious poker player has melted down - but up until this point, I had never done so in a live game. Plenty of bad plays, plenty of mistakes, but never one big catastrophic bluff 2 spots from the money. Now, I had basically popped my cherry.

I knew what it felt like, the gut wrenching, room spinning sickness that swept over me as I walked out into the Vegas twilight with my brother. It was good for me to go through it, because now I know what it's like. I know I'm a better poker player because of it.

And, this happened at just the right time for me. My blowup wasn't the worst line in the world, but it was wrong all the way down. I could analyze it, and see it plainly. Had I done this 4 years ago I could very easily rationalize it away - that fucking donkey, how can he call me with top pair, shit kicker? He sucks. Now I'm almost (and as of this writing, actually am) 40. I know better.

I awoke fresh and optimistic on Sunday. Lesson learned, today would be good. And, it was.

Back to the Venetian - this time the nooner was a bit smaller than the Friday tournament. They only paid the final table. Still, the top prize was 4K. Not too shabby.

The good Doctor busted out early and said he was going back to the Orleans to do some work work on his laptop. I found out later that he bee lined it to the Aria, where he also busted out in short order. Ah well, he was still ahead for the trip.

Myself, I played some of my best poker all trip. Reaping the benefits of being two seats to the right of a "serious" female home player who was one of the worst I had seen all week. Her wacky aggression in c-betting and open shoving on the river with top pair had me salivating. So far she had run well, and fancied herself a table captain as the chips piled up. I could see right through it.

I fooled a round a bit and stole her blinds a few times - once with 98 off suit. I showed. She was rankled.

Then I got aces. I raised as I always had - she three bet from the small blind. I shoved. She called with A10.

Cha-ching.

It was a great example of exploiting my own image, and reading someone for exactly what they were. Someone who routinely gets paid off and gets away with murder twice a week in her garage - running into an actual poker player.

Down the table from me, was the real deal. A regular. Early on I three bet him off his top pair with air. I was relieved that it worked, but I knew it would be the last time. I resolved to stay away from him.

A few hours passed, my stack dwindled as all the good little fishies fell by the wayside.

I flatted with pocket 7's on the button when the regular opened from middle position. He c-bet the dry ace high board. I called.

He had a monster stack at this point. I was just shy of being committed with my stack. The turn was a seven. A safe card for him as far as he was concerned.

He led out. I called again. Now he was worried.

I took him to value town on the river - he took forever to pay me off on my fairly thin value bet, but he did, with top two pair that he had flopped.

He rapped the table in acknowledgement when I showed the goods.

Hours later, after our table had broken, I was again approaching the money. The regular was at the other table and had a short stack.

As I strolled by he laughed at me and pointed to his stack "I got tangled up with another guy I should have avoided. Just like I should have avoided you." It felt really great, to get such respect from a daily degenerate (though he was a nice one as these guys go). I told him that I had promised myself to avoid him as well. We nodded in silence.

Long story short. I didn't implode this time.

For the third time this trip, just a handful of players from the money, but now I was truly short stacked with less than 12 bigs. I shoved from middle position with KJ. Now let me be clear, there were three big stacks at my table and one HUGE stack. I was looking to get tangled up in a multi-way and get lucky. Alas, I had only one caller, a big but not huge stack, who took FOREVER, to finally called me with AK. Idiot. This truly was a slow roll in my mind. He was a recreational player who wouldn't be that damaged by my stack, it was an insta-call at least, and an insta-shove for any real poker player because there were big stacks behind. I did manage to keep silent when he showed, though the regular to my left rolled his eyes in sympathy with me, shaking his head and chiming in with a thick accent "What are you going to do, fold with AK? Aye yah!" I chuckled as I bricked off - and once again walked away empty handed.

If a tree bubbles in the forest - does it make a sound? Does that even make sense?

What I'm trying to ascertain is - if I'd had a single big cash early on, enough to cover my buy-ins, and then thereafter simply gotten unlucky early on in all the remaining events, busting early, biding my time all afternoon window shopping in Vegas instead of playing nearly 27 hours of live poker -would that hypothetical trip have been more "successful"? Methinks not.

This was a hugely successful venture for me and my game - results not withstanding. Like I said, if I'd pocketed 1 or 2K in that first big tournament - my kings had avoided or cracked aces - I'd be over the moon; surely my confidence would have been boosted. But would I have even approached the level of learning and sheer number of hours at the tables if I'd gone that route? Who knows. But what I do know, is my agony and my frustration paled in the face of the real. The hard. The greatness that is poker and that I got to indulge in on this weekend.

Speaking of hard and good, my brother and I wrapped things up with H.O.R.S.E. at the Orleans on Sunday night.

It was a blast, I played well, my jacks ran into kings in Hold-em about 4 hours in with the betting levels at astronomical levels.

As I mentioned prior to this post, I consider myself dead money in such an event - and this took a lot of pressure off. I had a blast.

I was on life support for a long time, about 3 big bets remained, and managed to get into a multi-way pot and win it, so I was back up to 10 big bets. Then the aforementioned jacks - kings collision occurred and I made the long walk back up to my dark room. Falling asleep to visions of paper suits and numbers, passing in front of my closed eyes.

Good trip. No. Great trip. Thanks to my brother, my pain and the journey. I wouldn't trade the experience for anything, and I can't wait to go again.

Triple Play

I enjoyed my home game on Saturday night, a 20 person tournament outside under our new patio cover, and two tournaments at HPC the very next day!

I drew a dream table for my home game. 6 of the most tight/passive players I have ever had the pleasure of sitting down with. (Also some of the nicest people, so this in no way refers to them -rather to their poker skillz).

But I had to be careful as well, for their almost universal and unwavering proclivity to call, and call, and call, and call. This could be a beautiful thing. Wake up with a set and get paid, handsomely. Or flop the nuts, shove and get looked up. You know, the most beautiful phrase a poker player can hear - "I had to keep you honest." Love it.

Alas, my run was not deep; but overall I felt good about my play. Before I delve, let me reflect on a couple of players at the table.

The first is my brother-in-law Dave G. HW in C. Head Whiner in Charge. Dave is an incredibly smart fellow, a software engineer by trade and has a lot more brain power and ambition than I do - I look up to him for how he's been able to provide for his family and how he is very much a self made man.

But as far as poker goes, he is about as weak as it gets. First, he only likes to get involved with an incredibly narrow range. Face cards, a pair, or premiums. Occasionally if the price is right he will speculate with suited connectors, but even more disastrously - with whatever he does decide to play, he gives little or no consideration to position.

If the fold doesn't fit his hand, he check/folds. Which I love, but obviously is a monster leak.

An even bigger crack and ultimately more damaging flaw in his game, is that he has zero clue how to bet size properly after the flop.

100/200 with a 25 ante. I'm about 50 bigs deep. I am chip leader at the table by a small margin. I limp in the cutoff with pocket 8's. Limping was super profitable at this table - bear in mind the extreme passivity and the aforementioned calling-station afflictions.

Five players (all called) - big pot already. Flop comes Kh 6c Js. Dave G. leads out from the BB with 300 into a pot of 1175. Two callers and then it's to me. I have no draw and there are two over cards on the board. The pot is 2075, I have to put in 300. I'm getting almost 7 to 1 odds to call. Not a great price to hit a 2 outer that may already be drawing dead, but for a donk like me - irresistible.

The pot is now 2375. The turn comes an 8 of clubs. Dave G. bets out, the same amount. Now the pot is 2675. The two players between us, wait for it... wait for it...

wait for it...

...

...fold. Almost 10 to 1 odds are apparently no good although they called with 4 to 1 and 5 to 1 respectively on 3rd street. Okay.

I raise Dave up to 1500. He hems and haws, giant sigh, hemming and hawing. He's not acting. He reluctantly calls - over half of his stack is now in the pot. He is probably pot committed.

The river is a baby club. Dave silently checks.

Now the correct play here with most players is to check behind, as any flush draws got there and trip 8's has good enough show down value and I'm likely only to get called by a better hand, though king jack is a possibility.

But then I remember who I am playing. Would he call me down with KQ? (As this is what I had put him on - he would likely re-raise pre with AK). Would he have checked if he had made an unlikely back door flush? Don't think so. I shove. Like I said, probably not the best choice, but I really felt like I would get paid off with a second or even a third best hand, especially since (as I said) Dave was basically pot committed, having stuck almost 2/3 of his chips into the pot.

He hems and haws, and hems and haws, and mucks in disgust. His stack is crippled, and so is he - emotionally.

His shoulders sink, his head bows. I drag the sizable pot. I want to show, but I don't want to hurt my maniac image at the table. The fish around me think I'm being the bully, and I want them to continue to think that so that their calling station asses will pay me off when I four bet shove with Kings.

In hindsight, I should have shown Dave that he was beat - hopefully taking some of the sting out.

He didn't last much longer, getting it all in with AK after the flop blanked and someone else looking him up with middle pair.

Then he said a curt goodnight and stormed out.

Poker wins, Dave loses. It can truly be a brutal game - soul sucking even. This was not one of those instances. But the overreaction continued...

I got an abrupt e-mail the next morning. 'Please take me off the list. I'm tired of being first out and the dumbest at the table. Thanks, Dave.'

Like I said, he's a smart guy. Very perceptive of his surroundings and how he is perceived - but in this case I think he is wrong. I do classify him as a fish at my game, but he is nowhere near the top of that list. And if he would simply sit and read Harrington on Hold-Em volume 1, his game would improve leaps and bounds. Because he is playing without the fundamentals, he is handicapped. A simple foundation of no-limit basics would automatically make him better.

Now putting other people on hands, is simply something he has to work on through experience - but if he has the bedrock down, the house will follow.

Alas, I fear he has been stung too badly to recover any time soon - which is, a gross overreaction - but a genuine one. If I try to mention anything to him about how he might improve, I am likely only to make it worse. This is the curse us men are faced with - admitting vulnerability isn't exactly our forte'.

My second story has to do with the dude I consider to be my best friend - Cali.

I have begged and pleaded with him to get away from play chip poker online - I think it has really hurt his game. His idea of playing poker is four simple steps. Be patient, wake up with a monster, stick your chips in, get paid.

This approach, believe it or not, actually works to great effect when there is no real money involved. People are happy to call off with AJ pre-flop, when they have nothing to lose. I'm not sure exactly what their thought process is, but probably something like - "Huh? All-in? This guy hasn't played a hand in an hour, but my gut says he's just trying to bully me. I have a pair of sixes, I call!"

Yes, if people were as brain damaged in real money poker as they are with play chips I would fold my way to the money and then get all-in in a multi-way pot with Aces too. And I would be a millionaire, and so would Cali.

I'll concede that it can also be effective against a home game fish who is out for a few beers and some fun on a Saturday night, but my game in particular is seeing less and less of those players as the learning curve steepens.

But I digress.

Saturday night, I actually offered to pay him a dollar if he would show the aces he was about to muck. He continued his mucking motion - "A dollar if you show me your kings!" I added. He flipped over the cowboys.

He wasn't short stacked. It wasn't time to go big or go home. He just was playing scared and didn't want to raise the limpers for value. He wanted them all to fold so he could drag a pot of 500.

In table poker Cali's problem stems from his attachment to the money behind the chips. (Ironically he carries the same problem over into the play chip online arena by "Playing like it's real money", turns out it's profitable for him - so it reinforces this bad behavior).

One of the great things about tournament poker is that once your fee is paid, the money is gone. You don't have it any more. As an aside, this applies as well to poker in a general sense when your blinds are out or you've called on previous streets - that money is gone, it is in the pot, it doesn't belong to you anymore. In both cases, it shouldn't affect your decision making process. Make the right decision, don't try to hold onto cash that isn't even yours at the moment.

Chips are not money. Chips are tools, to be used in a variety of creative ways to extract value from your opponents.

Cali often reassures me that he does bluff and steal, but really I've only been dimly aware of this on a few occasions, and in all of those occasions Cali has been deep stacked, doubled or tripled up on a prior hand with aces or kings - or flush with chips after his passive set mining hit and got paid off by a resident calling station.

Now don't get me wrong, I don't fire a 3 bet or multiple barrels with air too often if I'm at or below 20 bigs, but if I've got 30 or more, meaning room to maneuver, I'm going to recognize that I absolutely cannot wait for a premium hand.
I must, must, MUST look for opportunities - targets - to steal chips and accumulate.

Likewise, if I'm at an aggressive table and not allowed to set mine or speculate, I'm going to have to play back at some point. The most aggressive maniac, the biggest bully, if he's not sitting on a monster or a monster draw - will back off if you play back effectively. He'll look for an easier target.

By the time it was time for Cali to go big or go home, he was whittled down so much that even when he did double up with pocket queens, he was still too short stacked to be any kind of a threat.

I busted out well before him, which Cali enjoyed gloating about, but if my hand had won at show down I would have been chip leader far and away at my table and perhaps for the whole three tables at the tournament.

My bust out, was not the greatest play of my life, but it certainly wasn't the worst. However, it was maybe the worst when you consider who I was in the hand with.

There was an aforementioned top tier fish on my right, who has in the four years she's been playing at my game finally recognized that sometimes it's correct to fold. I used this evolution in her poker brain against her mercilessly all night, as she tried to limp only to have me 3 bet large - often she would actually lay down her weak holdings.

Blinds were starting to grow, antes had kicked in.

I had Q10c . She limped, I popped it. Folded around to her, she complained bitterly about me always raising her limps, and called very reluctantly.

Flop came Kc 6c 10h. She looked a little fearful, cocked her head and checked.

Okay, she could have a king, it makes sense for her in how she played it. KJ, KQ, even AK. She could be on a draw like me, the nut flush? I hope not. Or, weirdly enough, she could have a decent over pair. Not huge though. With aces or kings she would likely have min-raised pre and wouldn't have Hollywooded my 3 bet. (Though she probably would have just flatted.) She could have limp called queens I suppose, though a more sensible person would've four bet all in with queens or jacks. But she more than likely would have done exactly what she did with jacks, tens, nines, and maybe even with queens. She's limping and check calling just as she's done so far. Same as with a Kx. Really my gut was telling me she hit a king with a medium kicker or a big draw. I would just have to pray that my draw was bigger.

I shoved. She hemmed and hawed a bit (yay) and then finally in classic form said "Oh well, guess it's time to go home." before calling and turning up red queens. (yuk)

Sigh.

I had 11 outs - 9 clubs and 2 tens. 44%. Turn was a 9s. Now we both had 3 extra outs (jacks) for a chop.

River was a 7 of spades.

Two thirds of my hard earned chips fell away from me.

I was lightly steamed, but handled it pretty well.

"I was so afraid you had something." she said as she stacked her spoils. "Yeah well..." I intoned, that was the idea. She belly laughed at my tilt, oblivious that she had just flipped for her tournament life with an over card on a very wet board that had nothing to do with her premium pair that she had butchered pre-flop.

And that's why I mangled this hand horribly. If I could rewind the tape it would go something like this -

I three bet her limp, like I have all tournament - this time, instead of folding she calls.

Warning flag should go off. She has, something. Not likely aces or kings, but potentially a premium holding or jacks or tens.

Flop comes with my big flush draw and middle pair. She checks.

Time for me to take a free card - because if I hit, I can still bust her. Whatever she has, she's probably fallen in love with it and won't release it. My turn bet was a big mistake.

The river blanks. She checks.

I need to check behind and show my middle pair - it has a very small showdown value - but I'm not taking her off the hand.

She shows her queens. I have lost 3 big blinds total. Stack intact as well as my sanity.

Oh well.

I eventually got whittled down Cali style. With zero room to maneuver I was in push and pray mode, but found nothing to push until my big blind was half my stack. I got in live, but Robert A.'s ace held up.

Like I said, I wasn't too displeased with how I had played against a random poker player but it really was a cluster fuck when you look at it in the context of being up against a level 1 thinker that I've been playing with for years. Mainly I was disappointed to have accumulated so much and then let it get away from me when I didn't have a made hand (though the draw was pretty big) and I was up against a calling station that gave me very little fold equity on a terrifying board. Also, my image as a maniac bully didn't help my cause I'm sure.

But there was plenty to keep me busy that night, as running a 20 person tournament is no small task. It was fun, and I look forward to doing it again in 2 weeks.

Still, after cashing for three months in a row in my home tournament, I was hungry to hit the felt again. So I took the opportunity the next day, a lazy Sunday where it was 105 in the shade, to head out to fabulous Inglewood and the glamorous gambling palace known as Hollywood Park Casino.

I sat down a half hour late for the Sunday 10K guarantee - a fun $40 tournament that is in actuality a $150 -$200 buy in after you figure in rebuys and add-ons. I was happy to gamble it up early on, but couldn't catch any monsters to reap the benefits of the loosey goosey rebuy frenzied table of degenerates.

I did pay off a local when he craftily slow played me out of position with top pair middling kicker - he took me to value town on the river and I looked him up with a measly pair of eights.

After add-ons I had a decent stack to play with, but really couldn't get anything going. My run of cards was absolutely dreadful, which isn't usually enough to hold me back - but with under 30 bigs I wasn't comfortable telling a story that would see me pot committed by fourth street.

But, I was determined not to get blinded off - I refused to get even close to 10 big blinds. So I started pulling the trigger after the antes kicked in and I was just under 20 big blinds.

The move worked once with AJos UTG. Then again with pocket sixes in the hijack. Then finally I got looked up with the latter when I shoved with a suited version of the former. His sixes held, I was on the rail.

But better to give myself a fighting chance, then to get shaved down into the dead zone where a double or triple up wouldn't have amounted to anything.

Disappointment hung over me yet again - not too much at my play this time, but definitely at my results.

Oh well, better luck next time. The sensible thing to do is to take a break. So naturally I registered for the afternoon tournament.

Unlike the morning 10K, where 20 tables are normal, the afternoon is a simple $100 freeze out that is lucky to see 4 tables. This afternoon the heat must have kept people at home - as only 14 players registered. Bummer.

Still, I took it as an opportunity to work on my live game and maybe experiment a bit. It was crucial that I not worry about dropping a couple of buy-ins on the day. Again, the money is already gone. Separating the cash from the chips is the only way to play level headed poker.

For the first two hours I hung in there. Catching some big cards here and there to keep me active and about average in chips. I did notice, the table was ridiculously passive, as compared to the morning aggro-fest.

We had a guy who basically sat down and wouldn't shut up, I couldn't peg his accent. I nicknamed him Borat.

He clearly fancied himself better than everyone else and a table captain. He donked off half of his stack to me when I flopped two pair and filled up on the river. He bet big into me - and I pushed, he let it go but he was damaged. All of the sudden Chatty Cathy wasn't so chatty anymore.

Shortly after, he was out. Play was uneventful into the third hour. Damn this table was weak. I was limping a lot, but not really accumulating, as my speculation failed to materialize. I had to pee.

Finally, a break. As I relieved myself (TMI?) I really pondered where I was at. I had room to breath at 35 bigs, but I was a bit below chip average. Everybody was pretty damn passive. As I shook myself off (definitely TMI) I resolved to change gears and go big or go home. It was time to get active, it was time to get involved, it was time to shove light if necessary - because if I didn't accumulate chips now, I wouldn't have a chance to later.

We had combined to a 9 handed final table. Yes! Final table in a tournament with 14 people. I got a few laughs when I said I was going to tweet this.

So we settled into play. At first my plan didn't take off - I really had a lot of garbage thrown at me. But no one else was raising. God dammit. I looked down at 104 suited spades in the cutoff. I raised it up. The big blind defended. Board came with 2 spades. The big blind led out with a less than half pot donk bet. The pot was not small at this point. I pondered for a moment. I shoved.

He tanked forever. Whatever his eventual decision, it was clear my move was correct. I brought maximum pressure down on one of the two bigger stacks at the table - who also happened to be a real poker player. This move would probably have been ill advised against most of my regulars back home.

He gave it up. I raked the pot.

I never looked back. Unless I had total trash I raised every hand that was open folded to me when I was on the button, cutoff or hijack. I had the good fortune of having a very tight passive to my immediate left, who let me become the button when he was there or pillage his big blind when I was small over and over again. I don't think he ever caught on.

The gentleman to his left was a bit more savvy, so I generally shut it down if he flatted and I blanked. Generally.

The one exception was this. On the button with pocket tens, folded to me, I pop it. Folded to him, the BB, he flats. Flop is 889. He checks. I c-bet almost half of the pot. He shoves, I beat him into the pot with a snap call. He flips over sevens. I had some of his running outs, and he blanked off. Big double up for me, he was crippled.

Looking back on the hand, it must have been some subconscious puzzle that I had put together about this guy, pulling similar moves on others and having them work. He liked to check raise, he liked to flat call with pocket pairs. And when that board hit I wasn't even watching it, I was watching him. He paused for just an instant - and stuck it in.

Think about it, with that board texture, if he has an 8 there is no way in hell he is leading out - he knows I'm firing hit or miss - he would let me hang myself. He's also probably putting me on two overs, not necessarily a bigger pocket pair than him. So he wants to apply "maximum" pressure on me, get me to go away and not chase my six outer.

But his stack is bigger than mine, no reason for him to blast away for a pot that's about a third of his stack, when he's risking everything. Unnecessary play - though on the other hand perhaps understandable, considering the entire table had done nothing but show weakness for most of the whole tournament, myself included.

No matter. I stacked 'em, stacked 'em, stacked 'em to the top.

Now I was in business. I bludgeoned that table, especially the player to my left and another fellow four to my left.
This guy was really nice, and clearly new to the game (unless it was some elaborate hoax). He literally brought Harrington on Hold-em Volume 2 as break reading material.

I mixed it up a little bit with him, with one hand in particular being particularly devastating. I had A10os and raised his limp from the cutoff, it folded around to him, he flatted. Flop came Axx two tone with hearts. He checked, I checked. Turn was a heart. He led out, a suspicous bet of less than a quarter of the pot. I went with my gut that it was a weak lead. I three bet him big, quadrupling his bet. He tanked a bit, I could read plainly that it was a painful bet for him. He cut out his chips and then called - but with the same lozenge sucking mannerism that I had seen him limp/check/call with for the whole tournament with marginal holdings. A tell? I wasn't really conscious of it at the time.

His call meant that he was pot committed. My instinct was to shut it down, but I was priced in to call his shove - I would be damaged but not severely hurt. But then the unexpected happened. With 2/3 of his chips already in the pot, he checked the river when it blanked.

This guy was a newbie. A simpleton. But not an idiot. He was reading Harrington. He could have a baby flush - but I really didn't think so. I think I was good - but I also wanted to give myself every chance to get him off of the hand just in case I wasn't. Like I said, if all his chips went in and I was on the losing end, it wouldn't be the end of the world - but if I checked behind and he had an ace with a better kicker, or bottom two pair, or a baby flush - I would have cost myself the only chance to take down the pot.

I shoved.

He shook his head and mucked. I showed him the ace (but not the kicker) and he nodded with a grimace. So my hand was good - he wasn't going to call. But if his hand had been slightly better I had given him a chance (though not really as he was pot committed) to get away, and he did - foolishly, though he probably had nothing. Not sure if this makes sense, but there it is.

So there were three guys that I handled pretty well at the table, the others stacked off in hands where I wasn't involved. But there was one that remained, the other big stack, I tangled with him a few times - he was the guy from the 10 4 suited hand - young, lip pierced, savvy, probably gay but doesn't know it - a ridiculous outfit, but he knew how to play. Except for the 10 4 hand, he came out the better in every confrontation, even when he was out of position. The good news was, I managed to get away from him unhurt except once and even then there were still enough fish left that I could pillage them to build back up. I avoided this guy from then on, until it was just me and him.

Our stacks were about even. I suggested a chop, which to my surprise he refused. Guess he wasn't that savvy when it came to long term EV. The blinds were monstro and I knew we would be flipping for it. He thought, correctly, that he was a better player than me, but he wasn't smart enough to realize his edge in skill here was meaningless. No worries.

Four hands in I flopped trip kings with an 8 kicker. All the chips went in and he had a king with a 10 kicker. There you go. Guess it worked out for him. Easy game.

Overall I was ecstatic at my play. Definitely the best I've played live. A few times my reads were off and I got lucky, but for the most part when I got the ammo I was an absolute rapist - plundering to my hearts content. I've only been a table captain once before in my life, and now that I've had another really good taste of it, I want it again even more.

One thing that has helped me a lot in becoming more robotic and consistent when I'm in bulldozer mode, is my baseball cap. Once I've made my bet, I lock in to the same spot just past the board and with a slight tilt down of my head I can shield my eyes with the bill. I like this much better than sunglasses, which I've tried twice. I bought some "poker shades" that were very light yet mirrored, and it was still way too dark. So much so that it hurt my head. I like the bill much better, it helps keep my movements consistent. Whether or not it actually shields any tells, who knows, but it definitely puts me in a comfort zone.

I'm going to try reeeally hard to get in another live session before Vegas, plus I have my home game on the 9th. Good for my brain to play both kinds of players - the degenerates who like to 4 bet light and the friendly faces who think bottom two pair is the nuts and will check/call to the death with it.

Coming up! Vegas 2010.2

Looks like I'm headed off to Vegas again, for what is now transforming before my very eyes into a TWICE a year tradition!

February, and now October. Sounds good to me.

Here is my tentative schedule.

-Thursday, October 21-

My super cheap flight arrives at 945am.

Pickup my super cheap rental car at 10am.

I know, I know, why rent a car in Vegas? Simple, do the math - a cab ride, if you're lucky and they don't take the tunnel is $20 minimum. That's $40 roundtrip. I booked a car that comes to just over twice that amount for four days. So I get complete freedom to go when and where I want - without relying on the time consuming, and potentially smelly hassle of cabs or shuttles. If I get the urge to play in Binion's downtown, it's a snap. If I'm at the Venetian and need to get to the MGM quickly, it's a done deal. I can still take long walks on the strip, in fact I plan to, but after the sun goes down there's no reason to risk life and limb anywhere off the strip - or for that matter risk getting puked on or punched out anywhere on the strip.

Arrive at the super cheap (less than $200 for four days) Orleans and sign up for the $75 NLHE nooner with time to spare.

The Orleans is my dump of choice - slightly nicer than the Imperial Palace or Tropicana, but still easy on the wallet. The poker room itself is run really well and has fantastic tournaments, probably the best structured for a low entry in all of Vegas. The room's downfall is it's clientele - a grumpy mix of swarthy blingers and crusty old codgers that have been around as long as the increasingly worn out furniture. I'm not saying this gang isn't beatable - but in the half dozen or so tournaments I've played at the Orleans, I've never cashed once. Still, this trip is not about making money first and foremost - it's about having fun!

After I stack off with bottom set in the third hour, my room will likely be ready. I'll check out the pron and take a nap (in that order) before heading back down to register for the Omaha/8 tournament. That's right, an Omaha/8 tournament!

This is the main reason I picked the Orleans - nowhere else in town spreads fixed limit tournaments. Again, as with the NLHE crowd here, I'm basically dead money. But it is a thrill to splash around in Omaha land! Plus I can take it easy and not worry about going anywhere - the food at the Orleans is pretty decent and not too painfully expensive as I recall.

I should get about 4 hours of play, and probably not be anywhere near the money when I get blinded off - but I'm so excited to be in an Omaha tournament. I'll likely grab some ice cream, hopefully nothing too calorically disastrous, before heading off to bed.

-Friday, October 22-

The next morning - it's off campus - to the Friday Nooner at Venetian! $150 brings me the best structured regular tournament in all of Vegas. Again - the competition is a bit stiffer, lots of locals (though not as incestuous as the Orleans) but the room is first rate. Here is my first real chance to cash - tight ABC will actually do the job (or at least get me close to the bubble) barring any massive coolers - if I get lucky and get hit with the deck I need to hunker down and play for first place; bet, raise, re-raise!

Hopefully I won't get felted early on - but if I do I must stay disciplined and refrain from rushing off to register for another tournament right away. I need to take a walk, maybe grab a bite, enjoy myself and not beat myself up too bad if I misplayed a hand or two, or six or seven.

Need to stay strong and hold out until 7pm, when I'll stroll on over to the Mirage for some boisterous bounty action! At $150, the Friday night tournament is quite a bit steeper than their usual $80 donk fest, but it is sooooo much fun! Plus as a bounty event, you only need to bust 1 player to get back $50. It makes for a lot of action and is very fun to play.

The Mirage is by far the softest poker room I have ever played in. It is typically full of tourists. It is the site of the one tournament I ever played in where I was a truly dominating table captain. I will always love playing at the Mirage.

Hopefully I'll be tired and exhilarated from chopping final table money - so I can head back to bed. More than likely though, on a Friday night in Vegas - I'll be ready to stroll on over to Treasure Island and sign up for their spectacularly bad structured $50 turbo tournament at 10pm.

This room is an absolute blast to play in. Truly smoke free, fantastic dealers and even the locals (which are outnumbered at least 4 to 1 by tourists) are about as fishy as they come. Believe it or not, I've won two tournaments here (chopped for first with the chip lead) - though I really believe the structure makes this virtually a "no skill required" event. The main reason I keep coming back, is because this is probably the most fun room in Vegas.

-Saturday, October 23-

Saturday morning - I will awake to either the comforting thought that I've cashed at least once, or the slightly melancholy realization that I've dropped $450 in entry fees with no return on my investment.

Either way - I will do the same on this trip that I have on the others - REFUSE to let my results, which are over a teeny tiny sample of hands, color my trip enjoyment level beyond a very small amount. People run hot, people run cold - when I'm only playing 10 tournaments in 4 days, I can't get hung up on the showdown. I need to relax and enjoy 3rd and 4th street - because that's where the major fun is. Besides, I always play better and win more when I try my best not to worry about results.

Having said that - my Saturday schedule is actually dependent on my results.

First things first, no matter if I am up or down, I will start with the $50 9am tournament at the fabulous Monte Carlo.

The tournament here is another $50 donkament - with an even worse structure than T.I. But I absolutely love the vibe of this room at 9am. With an unbeatable house entry fee, this tournament is populated on any given morning by 80 to 100 percent tourists. The dealers are slow, but super friendly, they explain the rules thoroughly before we start as there are truly people sitting around the table who have literally never played poker before - this is my kind of place. The structure is terrible - but this has to be even softer than the Mirage.

Afterwards, if I am up at all (even a few dollars) I'll head on down to the 2pm $225 big weekend event at Caesar's.

I really, really, really want to play in this one. 15,000 chips, 30 minute levels - very nice. My poker compatriots have long told me that this room is soft - in the few times I've played here, I found that to be anything but true. Still, I look forward to stumbling across that miracle table someday. Even if I don't, it would be a great privilege to play in the third best weekly in Vegas (the better two being the Venetian and Bellagio, which at $330 and $540 apiece respectively, are a bit much for me even if I've happened to cash).

If I haven't made any profit - meaning I haven't cashed, or have cashed and not booked more than $450 - then I'll wander on down to the 1pm tournament at Aria.

For only $125, this is a fantastically structured event with 30 minute levels. Plus, unlike Venetian or Orleans, the room is typically loaded with tourists - and these are the best kind of tourists! Moderate to serious recreational players like me, who have been known to think through a hand and are actually capable of folding a fairly strong cards once in awhile. There are some locals to watch out for of the maniac (or is it manic) kind - but easily detectable and avoidable.

For the 7pm tournament - it's a toss up. Depending on how soft the Mirage was on Friday night, I'll either head there again (for their $80 version of a bounty tournament) or head on over to the $125 Venetian for it's superb structure and starting stack.

If I started the day at Aria I'm unlikely to remain there for the 7pm tournament, only because I'm going to need a change of scenery. However, if I played at Caesar's at 2pm - then I'll make a bee-line for the Aria.

Finally, if I'm winning a lot - I'll likely crash into T.I. for the 10pm push and pray. Or, if I'm 0 for 7 at this point - I'll... likely crash into T.I. for the 10pm push and pray. Only if I've cashed a bit, and am exhausted, will I pass on the late night merriment and head back to the ranch.

-Sunday, October 24-

Sunday - will be the 11am $80 bounty at Mirage. Gotta love these tourist-aments.

After, I may hit an afternoon turbo at Planet Hollywood or T.I. if I have time or inclination.

At 7pm I will be back home at Orleans, for what is sure to be a highlight - a $75 H.O.R.S.E. tournament. Dead money. Good times.

Because I'll already be back in my hotel, I will have already gassed up the rental and can go straight to bed so I can be up and out for an early morning departure. Very nice.

By the way, this entire schedule is subject to change - it is potentially very hypothetical, but as of now it's where I'm inclined to play. Like I alluded to, I might get the impulse to go downtown - I've never played at Binion's or the Nugget, so that has always been in the back of my mind.

In any event, as if you couldn't tell - I am SUPER excited about this trip.


-Objective-

My main goal, believe it or not - is not to make money.

My main goal is to push myself poker-wise. To really focus and play my hardest, expanding my game and losing my fear of the dollars attached to the chips. In my mind, the money is already spent - I'm not counting on it coming back. I don't care about the cash. I care about bringing my A-game and leaving my anxiety at the door. The biggest component this equation will be having fun.

I still plan to play "mum" poker at the table - but at the same time, I'll be eager to socialize about any other subject. I'm here to get loaded on diet cokes, and maybe enjoy a table massage or two. I plan to show a busted bluff - and get paid later. I hit quads last trip - and checked to the better, who checked behind with a full house! This time if I get quads and it's 5th street - I'm a shovin'.

I want very much to talk poker - away from the tables and with my traveling companions. The venerable Dr. Dave (my brother) and good friend Fishman, who is anything but.

I am also very much looking forward to some good ass meals. I don't need to stuff myself till I'm sick - but I definitely want to savor some culinary goodness. Long walks through City Center should help alleviate some of this indulgence.

I hope I can convince more folks to come between now and then - until then, I'll be biding my time, pre-visualizing my chip splashing and river hitting.

Can't.

Wait.

Enlightened

Great cash game last Friday night at my house. Two medium sized fish, five decent players and one shark. I was in the middle group.

Ordinarily, there are some uber-fish that show up for cash game night, alas none could make it. I would have to make due with a fairly tough table, save for the two minor minnows.

I don't have a draw for seats at my cash game, people are free to sit where they like as they arrive - and naturally the two weaker players plopped down to my right while the tougher ones basically queued up to my left.

I was hoping at best with this bunch to turn a small profit - at the very least break even, a small loss was a possibility. So was getting stacked.

I don't know if there was a full moon out or what - but I proceeded to read everyone at that table about as well as I ever have in my entire life.

I actually called out hands on three separate occasions, and was spot on before the cards were flipped.

At least 4 times, I bluffed just the right amount to get the better hand to lay down. There's something to be said for a slightly better, and not God awful player - someone who can actually use their brain and put you on a hand (albeit the wrong one) as opposed to someone who only knows that the two cards in front of him must be good.

I am certain that 2 of my biggest bluffs worked effectively, because each time the mucking player conceded the pot, they showed me their hand before mucking!

In return, I would show the bluff. Overall, I showed a lot - which I know I've said many times, on this blog and elsewhere, is a generally a bad idea. I've also ranted and raved recently in this forum about how much I've tried to stay "mum" about poker when I'm at the table. Well Friday night, I definitely had a change of heart about this and even a little enlightenment.

Marc F., one of the aforementioned decent players at the table, made an offhand remark that struck me as pretty profound. To paraphrase - "I don't mind talking poker here, because we're all friends, this is low stakes and I always learn something about the game when I do."

What a beautiful thing!

It is true - my home game is a "safe" place for poker players. It's low stakes, not so low as to be meaningless, but well low enough to avert hard feelings and losing mortgage money. And we all know each other and like each other. Really, it's what every home poker experience should be.

So what are the downsides of talking poker at the table in such an environment?

I might give too much away and affect my results. But how much? Really?

Honestly, I think I'm as good as the best in my game - and better than the rest. Whatever I give away in information and results, I suspect I gain back much more by what is revealed to me. Both in the hands that other players show, and in the hands that they talk about.

I gave away a ton of info on Friday night, and still managed to book a win. The previously mentioned shark gave away zero information - but finished down for the night. The same can be said for another good player at the table, who kept mum on the hands, but still got tilted and ultimately felted.

But even more important than potentially affecting my results - talking poker is fun. Yes, fun. Ultimately, if all I cared about in poker was money, I wouldn't bother to host a home game, or even play in one for that matter. Nope, my first priority at the table is to have FUN. True, a part of this fun is being successful = making money. But only a part. Conversely, I play my best when I am able to disassociate chips from cash -and not fret over making the bubble or losing a buy-in. I play best, when I have fun.

So I think it's okay, and possibly even beneficial - to talk poker at the poker table. Not in a card room, where I don't know the people and they don't know me and the buy-in is $100 and up. But in my garage, or in someone else's living room - why not showski once in awhile, or speculate out loud? It's fun! I enjoyed myself immensely the other night, chatting it up about hands, showing my nastiest bluffs and not worrying about concealing and not revealing. Plus I finished up over $50 in profit, not too shabby for a game with fixed limits and a $40 buy in!

So I guess the ground rules for me will be - in a cash game at home I can yuck it up and talk all I want about teh pokerz. Especially when it's a table full of people I respect AND also has people that I really like. On Friday night, the two big fish are two really great guys; I honestly take pleasure in opening up a bit with them; and they aren't so terrible that it would be a dreadful mistake to educate them a bit.

In my tournaments, I'll have to be a bit more tight lipped - too many calling stations and uber-donks, I don't want to be educating them more than is necessary. It's simply far too profitable to smile and stay silent with them. But if I slip, and say out loud "well I'm getting 7 to 1, I have to call" or some such innocuous but ultimately illuminating remark, I'm not going to beat myself up. I'm going - to have fun.

You're not from around here, are you boy?

Recently my work took me to Nicaragua. I missed the one night out at the local casino because I wasn't invited and I was dead tired. The trip ended, but instead of going home we continued on to Biloxi, Mississippi, to shoot a one hour special for the CW Network called "The Gulf is Back" a concert promoting the resiliency and recovery of the region.

On this second leg, I felt a lot more comfortable venturing out after work, mainly because the odds were actually heavily against me getting knifed, unlike in Nicaragua, and there was no comparable language barrier. The only thing I had to struggle with a little to decipher were the strong but friendly Mississippi accents.

Even better and more convenient, literally right across the street from our perfectly pleasant hotel was the Beau Rivage Hotel and Casino, the largest and most prestigious gambling house in the state. Best of all - they had nightly tournaments!

$120 for 10,000 in chips and a fairly decent structure. I brought my sometime poker confidante Cali Al along with me, and we both excitedly plunked down our cash for a chance at fighting through about 50 runners for a smallish prize pool.

The poker room at the BR was gorgeous to look at, comfortable and sumptuous with wood paneling and fine appointments.



The chairs were comfortable, though they didn't roll which was a bit odd (considering all the big rooms have rolling chairs in Vegas and SoCal, even in HPC) - the two most unfortunate things about the room however were the noise and the smoke. Because the room was adjacent and open to the casino machines (which were numerous) we got to enjoy a constant stream of binging and beeping as well as a frequent lung burning from the chain smoking slot jockeys.

The dealers were competent and friendly. The drink service fast enough and equally cheerful.

The competition however at first appeared to be the rooms downfall - mostly locals who for the most part knew what they were doing. Over the first hour I thought to myself - "I don't think the Rivage would be where I would hang my hat if I lived here. Too tough and too "been there, done that". Though I must say, quite a bit friendlier and sincere than the local degens in Inglewood." But as I would learn, it really wasn't as bad as it first appeared.

Cali and I both couldn't seem to get much going early on, but soon I got comfortable with the table as for who knew what they were doing and who didn't. In particular, I pegged the young gun across the table from me as an aggressive local who at first appeared to be in control but in fact wasn't betting correctly, at all.

Just as my stack was starting to slip, my read on this guy paid off. There was lots of limping going on at the table, frequently without a raise from behind. And when it was raised, everybody would call anyway. So I played along with the table, trying to see a flop or cheap.

I just called from middle position with KQ suited. Young gun limped as well from the button. Four players to the flop. K x x. Blinds checked, I checked, button checked. Turn was a 10. Blinds checked, I checked, Young Gun fired just over a quarter of the pot. Blinds folded. I called. River was a scary Jack. I checked. Young Gun, hot shit local, fired out THE SAME AMOUNT! I was getting nearly 10 to one on a call. I would have called with any two cards just to get information, but I had the sneaking instinct that I was still good. This guy was ABC and would have bet for fat value if he had connected hard. I insta-called and insta-flipped my cards. He looked disgusted and mucked. Really buddy? Did you think I was going to fold top pair for barely twice a min-bet on the river? You suck dude.

Cali continued to play ultra-snug, not even limping with marginal holdings - I have often tried to talk to him about playing too tight, but he assures me that he does open up his range more than I think. It is true though, that he will fold for an hour, something I could never do or justify. Consequently, his table image is that of a super-nit. The benefit of this I guess is that he is able to steal occasionally from out of position; it does appear to others as if he suddenly woke up with a hand and they get out of his way. The downside of such an extreme image though is that he doesn't get paid on his monsters (unless of course he is playing online with fake money) and he appears to be afraid to mix it up at all. The latter is especially damaging in a modern NLHE tournament environment where experienced players sniff out fear like a pit-bull who catches a whiff of kitten. Cali had his blinds pillaged over and over and over again, alternately by the same 2 and sometimes 3 locals who could barely contain themselves from licking their chops as each steal opportunity arose.

I on the other hand, when my blinds had been stolen one too many times, three bet-fearlessly and then shoved the flop with air. Not coincidentally it was against young gun who tanked and tanked and finally folded his 9's face up. Gulp. But I knew it had to be done, for two reasons. One, I had to take a stand. Two, I was dialed in on this guy, and knew he was good enough to pay attention to how I had been playing and assume that I wouldn't stick it in unless I was ahead.

Cali finally bid adieu to the table, raising UTG with 15BB's (a mistake) and then sticking it in on the flop with an unconnected AK that got looked up by a middling pocket pair. The time to shove was pre-flop, but Cali bemoaned his lack of cards and luck before shuffling off. I didn't mention to him that I hadn't had a single premium holding save for jacks, and yet somehow had bet my way (without showdowns) into an average chip stack with hands such as Q10, 78 and a pair of 5's.

One old codger two seats to my left gave me flashbacks of Inglewood. He was curmudgeonly and seemed to play mostly if not only higher pairs and AK. Codger got it all in with another young player who had AJ, he had Kings. I liked this guy.

He led out from early position with a x5 BB raise. The button called. I had Ah4h on the BB and defended knowing that the blinds were still low enough to justify mining for a monster - though yes, I do know that suited cards, even a suited ace, give only a statistically negligible advantage. I was looking to flop two pair or better or a monster draw. I got the latter.

The board came 3h 6c 5h. I checked. Codger c-bet half the pot, the button folded. I knew that even against his overpair I was probably ahead. I check-raised all in. He barely thought about it before calling with kings (again, this was the third pair of cowboys he had shown). He scoffed at my cards. The turn was a blank. The river a black ace.

On the flop, it turned out I had 17 outs (I had figured before he showed his cards that I only had 14 or 15) making me close to a 65% favorite, despite codger being ahead at the moment. I got it in good with my stack that was pretty much in need of a double up now rather than later. Codger was disgusted, but a young local two seats to my right spoke glowingly of my move and pointed out to everyone that I was ahead on the flop. Sometimes a little poker talk at the table can be a nice thing, if it's from someone else pointing out how great I am.

From that moment on I felt a lot better about my chances with this crowd. Most everyone played serenely and with confidence, expertly shuffling their chips and smoothly handling their cards - but most of these locals didn't understand bet sizing and were caught off guard when someone check or re-raised. As near as I could tell, they were about 3 years behind the internet and maybe a year and a half behind the card rooms of SoCal.

I honestly don't remember too many specific hands, save for getting lucky one time and spiking a set of queens against a pair of aces for a much needed double up, but I do remember being shocked at how quickly the bust-outs came. Before I knew it I was at the final table of 10. They paid 9. As I was a short stack, I floated an offer to take a buy-in off first place so that 10th would get their money back. I was greeted with stoney silence and stares, as if I had said, "Hey, anyone want to get naked and do the hokey-pokey?" Okay, they don't take kindly to choppin' here in Mississippi boy. Their reluctance to pay 10, when there were several short stacks and not just me, as well as the uneasiness at the thought of chopping at all right through the final four, was a big sign that the locals didn't fully grasp the concept of long term EV.

I would have to get lucky to cash it seemed, and thankfully, mostly to an absolutely ridiculous and unnecessary tangle between two big stacks, I didn't have to. I squeaked into the money (almost double my buy-in, yay!) and then I got lucky and tripled up in a multi-way pot when my pair of 8's spiked a set on the river. I was in good shape. I looked down at kings on the button. I had a raise and a re-raise behind me! Chippies went in. One caller. He had Jacks. Kings were good. Yay.

Time passed, I mostly folded, two more players busted and now I was no longer a nub, but I was still short stacked, though in the middle of the pack at the table. The blinds were so high that there was virtually no room to maneuver. I looked down at AK UTG. If I doubled up now I would be close to the chip lead. I was already guaranteed $494 - I shoved. It folded around to the button who was the monster stack. He tanked and tanked. Awesome. He finally called with A8os. My heart skipped a beat.

Flop x 8 x. Heartbreak.

Turn K. Elation.

River 8. That's poker.

A big roar of incredulity went up around the table, and there were handshakes of consolation all around. It definitely dulled the sting to have a unanimous validation from those who remained at the table, even the big stack. By the time I made it to the desk to get paid, I was pretty damn happy considering I had endured a very internet-like suck out in a live environment.

I feel pretty great about how I played, though I certainly wasn't perfect, I didn't make any gigantic mistakes. I folded small-pairs when I was in early to mid-position and had less than 15 bigs, a step I've been taking of late that seems to be the right way to go. I also for the most part knew when to give up and when to keep firing based on board textures and player reads, better than I think I ever have in a live game. Overall, I'm really really pleased that I could do so well (as well as be so lucky a couple of times) to double my per diem money in Mississippi.

Right now I am very much looking forward to returning to Vegas in October, to help my brother celebrate his marriage (a post-ceremony bachelor party, no shenanigans - just cards) and to give myself an early treat for my 40th birthday. I hope to get in a live tournament or two between now and then in Inglewood, as well as hopefully continue to cash in Flatline. I've taken down third place two tournaments in a row, and I really feel dialed in with those guys for a change.

In Pepper Street Poker, I also have cashed two tournaments in a row. We have a delightful new player, who is all kinds of awful and yet seems to be running over everyone. She also tilts me because she takes forever on every single decision, but I have to recognize that as far as my game is concerned she is BIG time positive EV.

We played out on the patio last Sunday and it was a blast - I look forward to doing it again two weeks from Friday night for a cash game, though it will start at 7pm so it should be nice and cool. If the weather stays warm, it will be divine.